07/21/2020 Snippet, TIPPED ON A STIFF.

Still going on.


The trail took us south, towards the docks. It was early enough in the evening that people were still working at having a great night instead of living with the aftermath of one.

We moved through the crowds pretty clean, but I wondered why Sofie didn’t have a Brute Squad along for the walk. She could afford it. She could also afford to bribe the cops out of officially noticing a fugitive Deseret mage. Hell, I can afford that level of bribery. Nobody wants to hand over mages to the Universal Dominion.

I wasn’t too worried about it; every Case a Shamus takes is complicated. If it was easy enough for the cops to handle it, my clients would never darken my door. Or interrupt my dinner.

But since I was on the Case, I was doing my job: which, right now, meant looking out for both of us. Sofie seemed to need both hands and most of her attention keeping the doohickey running, and I didn’t have her pegged as somebody who could spot a tail anyway. But I could; and after three blocks, I did.

Never hiss or stage-whisper when you’re telling somebody on the down-low. People notice that. Instead, I casually said, “We’re being followed. One block back, other side of the street. Guy, northern duster coat and hat. Friend of yours?”