9

The only warning was Dean’s smirk, filled with so much childish malice I knew something was going on.

Garrett!

Oh-oh. I’d forgotten I’d left him with those evangelists.

I considered taking a powder. But, hell, it was my house. A man is king in his own castle. I stepped into the Dead Man’s room. “Yeah?”

Sit down.

I sat, warily. He was too calm.

Have you contemplated the state of your immortal soul?

I believe I screeched. Next thing I knew, I was headed down the hall staring back at his closed door with bugged eyes. Somewhere a cat meowed. This couldn’t be happening to me. It wasn’t real. I was going crazy. If this kept up, I’d be out there howling at the sky alongside Barking Dog.

It got worse. I ducked into the kitchen for a beer, found Dean at the table having tea with the religion women. One had a kitten in her lap. Dean seemed spellbound by the ropes of sand the other was spinning. The cat woman said, “Won’t you join us, Mr. Garrett? We were just sharing the wonderful news with Dean. Won’t you share the joy with us too?”

Joy? She was as joyous as the piles. She didn’t know the meaning of the word. The fraud. She was smiling, but that was a domino. Everything behind it was holier-than-thou sour. She would remain constipated as long as she suffered the suspicion that somebody, somewhere, was having a good time. “Sorry. Some other time. I’m just going to grab a biscuit and run.” I knew her kind. A Barking Dog with a bath, only her fantasy contained a harsh, metallic flavor of violence. Barking Dog was determined to expose imaginary devils. She wanted to scourge them with fire and sword. Yet she was painfully formal and polite. If I stopped moving for a second, she would pin me and soon drive me over the edge. She wouldn’t let go till I’d gotten so damned rude I’d be embarrassed for a month.

I grabbed my biscuit and fled to my office. I asked Eleanor, “You haven’t gone gaga on me too, have you?”

She gave me her best enigmatic look.

I settled behind my desk. Things were falling apart around me. I had to take charge before chaos conquered all. I had to get this storm-tossed ship back on a steady keel.

It was my own damn fault, trying to pull a fast one on the Dead Man.