Dread Brass Shadows

Her features settled into solid fear. "It must have been her! She must have a page in the book that's me."

"What?" It sank in. "The villain of the piece came here masquerading as you?" Well. Well again. And she was my client. More or less. "But how? If she doesn't have the book anymore?"

She didn't ask how I knew what the book did. She thought about my question. "First draft? Maybe she brought draft pages with her. You couldn't really mistake her for me, could you?"

She wasn't that naive after all.

No. I couldn't mistake her, having seen her. I thought back to that earlier visit. It wouldn't come clear. That was odd. The Dead Man has taught me to pick up details and retain them. But I found only mists where I should have had cleat, crisp recollections.

"Dean, make us a pot of tea. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night." And who could get any rest with all that racket going on outside? I was begi

He gave me the hardeye like he wondered if something so sweet would he safe if lie visited the kitchen, decided maybe 1 could restrain myself that long, stalked out. Carla Lindo Ramada told me, "Dean is a sweet man."

"Yeah. Sometimes we have trouble keeping the bees off him. We use him to bait our flytraps. And he's a sucker for a girl in trouble." But not me. Oh, no, not Garrett. Garrett is hard as nails, "How come you were hiding out there?"

"When I arrived in TunFaire, I stayed with people the Baron knows. On the Hill. I asked everybody I saw who might be able to help me. Everybody recommended you."

Gahk! I hadn't thought my name was common coin on the Hill. That could be bad news.

"They say you're honest but you do things your own way and you have a reputation as a chaser." Her eyes sparkled She definitely wasn't as naive as she looked.

"Me? They must've been thinking about somebody else. I'm pure of heart and soul. Pure as the driven slush."

"But maybe a little lax in mind and body?" More eye twinkle. She was coming back from her fright. Fast. I bet she kept that mountain castle simmering.

She smiled. Her freckles danced. And I knew why she stood out from the other redheads. They didn't have freckles. Even Ti

We could've gone on like that all night, but there was a job to do. And Dean would be back any second, pushing his scowl before him. "Guilty more often than not. Let me tell you about the Carla Lindo Ramada who was here before. You tell me when her story doesn't match up with yours."

She listened attentively. Her eyes never stopped sparkling and her freckles never stopped dancing, even when Dean brought our tea. He looked at her looking at me and sighed. He never does quite abandon hope that he can stick me with one of his nieces.

Carla Lindo sipped her tea, seemed startled. Dean had broken out one of his reserve blends. She took another sip, told me, "That's exactly the way it happened, Mr. Garrett. I think."

"You think?"

"I wasn't there. He sent me away so I'd be safe."

"He did? He wanted you safe from the rowdiness at home, but he packed you off to the wicked city alone?" That didn't seem consistent.

"He didn't want to send me. Probably she got here before I did because he spent so much time making up his mind. But he didn't have any choice. I was the only one left that he could trust."

"Why?"

"The Serpent tried to enlist everybody else. Some of them had to be with her. The trustworthy ones all got killed trying to get the book. She never tried to get to me because she knew I'd never do anything against him."

"Why not? We all can be tempted."

"Because he's my father, Mr. Garrett. My mother was a chambermaid, too, so there was no way he could legitimize me, but their relationship wasn't any secret. He never denied me, even to his wife. She hates me and my mother. But she hasn't dared do anything." She shivered, suddenly frightened. There was a big yet unspoken there. If Dean had been anywhere else, I would've bounced over to comfort her.

This was getting more complicated by the minute, at the far end, where the story started, but I wasn't a step nearer getting things unraveled here. "Wait up. I'm getting confused. We have a wife and a witch and a mistress and a daughter, all for a guy who's supposed to be two hundred years old, bedridden, and under a curse that won't let him die?"

She looked at me fu

"Oh. That's not quite true. Father is old and bedridden, but he wasn't always. And he's not two hundred; she just says that. He's sixty-eight. She put the curse on him when I was four, when he stopped even pretending about my mother and sent her to live in the other tower."

"Huh?"

Dean got it first. "His wife would be the Serpent, Mr. Garrett. He exiled her to a separate part of the castle." So much for my steel-trap mind. Maybe if I was a little less pained and tired.

The girl nodded.

"Oh. Right. I got it now. Should have said so." I wondered if that changed anything. I wondered why I cared. The carryings-on of the denizens of a faraway castle were no business of mine. Unless those people wouldn't leave me alone. I thought out loud, "It seems we know who and why, Dean. You think?"

"That Serpent person. Wanting to keep Miss Carla from reaching you and getting your help."

"That's one. What about Squirrel? Her doing?"

He shrugged. "That blonde woman?"

"Maybe. Now we know this, what should we do?"

Carla Lindo didn't correct Dean's lapse. So she was the kind who would let him get away with stuff.

She interrupted my thoughts. "Will you help me, Mr. Garrett?"

I wanted to tell her I wouldn't let her out of my sight. That that would be too painful, like taking away my vision. My eyes couldn't stand the darkness when she was gone. But I kept it businesslike. Barely "Yes. I think our interests run parallel." Wouldn't be the first time I'd turned on a client who turned out to be shady.

My comments puzzled Carla Lindo. I glanced at Dean. He shrugged. He hadn't told her about Ti

"Miss Ramada... I became involved in this on a personal level yesterday. A good friend was coming to visit. She's about your height and has red hair. A man tried to kill her out front. One of the Serpent's men, evidently. Mistaking her for you, I suspect. So I have a score to settle. I suppose."

The Dead Man touched me, a summons. He had something he wanted to stick in, in private. "Excuse me. I have to step out for a minute. Finish explaining, Dean."

The old man nodded. He was looking hurt all over again. Like Ti

I sure didn't feel tough and invulnerable.