I ran my tongue against the inside of my mouth. “It locks from the inside.”

“. . . the creature ran right at her. I tried to get it off, but before I knew what was happening it had ripped her head off and blood was spraying everywhere. It was horrible, Cal. Her body was flopping around while the thing practically swallowed her head whole.”

I just stood there staring, stunned, at the ghoul.

“I didn’t know what to do, Cal. Honest. So when the thing started eating the rest of the body, I figured, you know—what is that phrase you use? What the hell, at least it gets rid of the body, right? Right, Cal? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I tried very hard to maintain control, but I was going to explode. I held one finger up in the air. “Now, let me get this straight. I may have gotten the first paying client I’ve had in months and that little mystery pig ate her?”

Mo’Lock nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the story.”

That did it. I pulled the hammer back on my gun and headed toward the bathroom. “Okay, okay, here we go. The mystery is solved! You want to know what that thing is . . . it’s soon to be deceased! How’s that!?”

Mo’Lock jumped in front of me. “No, Cal! Don’t!” He had his arms spread out, blocking my path. “I can see why you’re upset, but killing that baby won’t solve anything.”

“It’ll solve EVERYTHING, you idiot!”

The ghoul wouldn’t let me past and he knew I wasn’t going to fight him. “Come on, calm down. Have a drink. Take a pill. Smoke something.” He smiled a strained, dead man’s smile.

He knew me too well.

I nodded and put my gun away. “Any idea who this woman was?”

Mo’Lock pointed to my desk. “I’ve been trying to clean the blood. Her purse is over there.”

I grabbed one of the bottles from the bag on the floor, locked the front door, and went to my desk. The purse was red Prada, ultra-shiny leather and had a diamond-studded clasp. Great. She was rich too, or rather, used to be rich.

She had probably come to me so she could pay me out the nose to follow her husband. He was most likely cheating on her and she wanted the upper hand in the divorce. All I would have had to do was get some pictures of an old fat-ass porking some eighteen-year-old and I’d be set for a year. Just my luck she got herself eaten.