I was disappointed to see that Mr. Smart-mouth was gone but there was a decent puddle of blood and a trail of drops that led across the street. They were big and wide apart so I knew the guy had run like a sissy. I laughed a little and headed back to the pad, not minding the steaming drizzle a bit.

I was already on the porch of the house when I heard muttering voices coming from inside. They didn’t sound threatening, but just to be sure I slowly placed my armload down next to the door and drew my gun.

There were two voices. One kept interrupting the other and both spoke quickly. Then when I heard what I thought was Mo’Lock’s voice, I eased the door open with my left hand and fixed the gun, cocked, in my right. The door clicked and slid. Inside the office all eyes turned on me. Three sets of ’em.

Mo’Lock was sitting at my desk, his feet up, entertaining two suits. I put my gun away, glancing at the two assholes, then slowly up at the ghoul, nodding my head. “What’s goin’ on here?” I said.

Mo’Lock took his feet down. “I was just briefing these two potential clients—”

I shook my head.

Mo’Lock stood and walked away. “Damn.”

I grabbed the packages, dragged them inside the door, and slammed it shut. Then I eyeballed the two geeks in suits. I saw that one of them had a ponytail. I hate that shit.

We were off to a bad start, I thought as I snagged a beer, then went around the back of my desk and sat.

I was right on one count. These two were major geekoids. The one on the right, Mr. Fuckin’ Ponytail, had on the fattest, ugliest tie in the universe and it was stained with all manner of scum. The suit itself was the color of vomit after a frozen dinner, and believe me, I know that color. His face was that of a true dullard; long and thin with half-closed eyes and a slobbery hanging lower lip.

Basically he looked like a half-hearted hippie in a bad suit. I wanted to point out what a hippie looked like to the ghoul, but I let it ride instead of immediately alienating some potential cash.

The other guy was different, but a geek just the same. He had on a black suit, bowtie, white socks, and brown shoes. He had thin greasy black hair, big-ass horn-rimmed glasses, and a face that only a mother could love, if she were blind and retarded.

They both screamed to be beaten up.

“So, gentlemen—” I belched. “What can I do for you today?”

The guy with the glasses got nervous and sat forward, pushing back his glasses with his finger. “Um, ah, my name is Sinclair Walters, Mr. McDonald, and this is my partner, Alex Daniels,” he said, gesturing to the ponytail.