Second Guessing

by K. J. Emrick

  Because he’s magic.

  I can’t see anything to do with Arnie Chen, either. Before, in his restaurant, I thought it was because of the spell that had bounced Harry away but now I remember. I remember when I was in that alley with Chen and his goons, looking for my client’s bracelet… Chen had come outside, and I hadn’t seen him coming. I hadn’t heard anything he said ahead of time. I couldn’t see anything that he was about to say or do. Not then, and not in the office of his restaurant, and not now.

  Because he’s magic.

  Oh. Crap.

  “Mister Chen,” I say quickly, hoping to hide my growing unease. “Uh. How’d you get in here?”

  Casually, he rolls one large hand around in a circle. There’s no way an arm the size of his would have fit through the holes in my door, so how…? “A man has his ways,” he says. “To tell the truth, I was expecting someone else to be here. How is it that a woman as fascinating as yourself lives alone?”

  I stared at him as I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d said anything about Harry when I came in. Did I use his name? No. I just said ‘my hero,’ and Chen would figure I was talking about him. I hope.

  Trying to act like I wasn’t freaked out at all by finding Chen here—the magically inclined Mister Chen—I went over to my refrigerator and took my time getting a bottle of beer out. The plates of chicken marsala are gone from the table. Some of the mess is cleaned up from the floor but some of it is still there. Harry must have started to clean up, and then gotten interrupted by this man.

  And I notice Harry’s gone again. Bounced back to his rug? Probably. Chen’s magic is pretty strong if he can get the drop on Harry like that here, in our apartment.

  “Why are you here, Mister Chen?” I asked him over my shoulder. “I don’t remember us having a meeting.”

  “We should have had at least one meeting by now, you and I.” He levers his large body up from the couch and goes over to my shelves, looking over the books I have there. “I recall hiring you to find something for me. Something very precious.”

  “Well, actually Mister Chen—”

  “I’ll do everything I can to find your statue.” Those words came out of his mouth, but they sounded just like me. Like he’d stolen my voice. “That’s exactly what you said to me, Miss Stone, when you agreed to take my case. I expected some progress by now.”

  “The thing is—”

  “Did you know you can tell a lot about a person by the books they read?” He hasn’t turned away from the shelves, and now he slides out one of several romance novels I have there. He scrutinizes the photo on the cover for a long moment. A shirtless man, a woman with her dress slipping down over one shoulder. “I prefer historical novels myself. Ones which inform as well as entertain.”

  “Those books have taught me quite a bit,” I promise him. “That one especially, right around page forty-two.”

  His eyebrows lift up high enough to wrinkle his forehead. “Hmm. Well, in that case, would you mind if I borrowed it?”

  “Uh, sure. Help yourself. I’ve read it three times already. Listen, Mister Chen, I made an error in accepting your case.” No time like the present to get this out in the open. I mean, he went to all the trouble of somehow breaking into my apartment, after all. “I don’t think I’m the one to help you with this after all.”

  The romance novel has already been slipped into the front pocket of his white suit coat. He turns away from my books and comes over in my direction, towering over me, casting a shadow even here inside my apartment. “I think, Miss Stone, that you’re exactly the one to do this for me. Aren’t you the one who just exonerated an innocent woman from a murder charge? Found the killer, and found the woman who paid the killer?”

  That froze me in my place. No one but the police had that information yet. “How do you know that?”

  His hand rolls in the air again, and this time I get a flash of a very expensive looking gold watch. “As I say, a man has his ways. Are you saying that didn’t happen? Was I misinformed?”

  “Well, no. I did do that just like you said. Still, I’m not sure I can take your case.”

  Pursing his lips, he takes a step closer. “Is it because of what the statue is made from? Some people have moral issues regarding the import of ivory and jade. I can assure you, when the statue was made those substances were legal to both possess and obtain. They were neither obtained from slave labor, nor animal cruelty.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “Ah.” His smile is crooked, and sharply coy. “Then it’s myself you have an objection to. My… questionable associations with certain less-than-upstanding citizens in this city?”

  “No. No, not really.” I’ve dealt with criminals before. I’ve worked with some of those ‘less-than-upstanding citizens’ that he’s talking about. I’ve even got a few who owe me a favor. I don’t judge people. I won’t forgive murderers, or rapists, or people who ruin the lives of others. I won’t work with them, either. Petty criminals, on the other hand, and those who have to make their living on the fringe of society for whatever reason… well, we’re all just folks. Some people have it harder than others.

  I don’t know enough to say which sort of criminal Arnie Chen is, real bad guy or just plain folk, but that fancy watch and those nice clothes of his tell me he’s not living on the fringe of society.

  At any rate, it’s not his criminal affiliations that are worrying me right now.

  His smile evaporates. “I see. You’re worried about something else, then. You’re concerned about what form my magic takes.”

  A cold shudder crawls down my spine and settles in the pit of my stomach. He can’t know that I suspect… but of course he can. He knew about the end of the murder case. He knew I’d be here. I’m beginning to think there’s no sense in trying to keep secrets of any kind from him.

  Which doesn’t make me feel any safer about being around him.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of people with magic in their blood, Miss Stone.” He took a few more steps my way, and if I wasn’t still frozen in place, I would have backed away from him. His gaze locks with mine. His eyes are hypnotic. Mesmerizing. “I have magic. Like any other of my many fine qualities, I can use my magic any way I see fit. I can be your best friend… or not. As you choose.”

  I swallowed. I could hear my heartbeat in my own ears.

  But I couldn’t hear what he was about to say, until he said it.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Miss Stone.”

  Deep in his eyes, something flashes red.

  “But, I think it would be in your best interests if you were afraid. Just a little.”

  Now his eyes flooded red, from corner to corner. The pupils narrow to black slits like a serpent’s eyes. Tiny flames trickled out from the corners and turn to smoke that drifts upward to my ceiling.

  Then, just like that, his eyes are his eyes again and not… whatever I had just seen.

  Scared of him? I’m terrified.

  Who is Arnie Chen?

  More than that… what is he?

  Now he smiles again, and turns away from me, walking over to my ruined door. “Do we understand each other, Miss Stone?”

  When I can find my voice, I give him the only answer I can. “Yeah,” I tell him, swallowing to work up moisture in my suddenly dry mouth. “I think I understand you just fine.”

  “Then you will continue working on my case, I presume?”

  I swallow again and take a long drink from my untouched beer. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. “It doesn’t seem to me like I have a choice.”

  He settles his thick fingers around the doorknob and just for a moment, smoke drifts around the corners of his eyes again. “We all have a choice, Miss Stone. You just have to be ready to accept the consequences for your actions when you make the wrong one.”

  Then he twists his hand in a seemingly effortless gesture, and the knob breaks away with a sizeable chunk of the door still attached. The wood cracks
, and fractures, and the remains of the door swing cockeyed from the hinges.

  “It would seem,” he muses, “that you need a new door. No one can survive in this world without proper protection. I’m sure I’ve read that somewhere. In a fortune cookie, perhaps.”

  He left it at that. Turning sideways to fit through the doorway, he snaps the yellow police tape away, and disappears down the hallway.

  As soon as he’s gone, Harry pops into view in the living room, standing in the middle of his rug, smoke drifting off his body, smelling of flowers.

  “My lady,” he says to me, waving his hands about anxiously. “There was nothing I could do. Nothing at all! As soon as he stepped foot in the hallway I was pushed back into my rug. I could not get out. Not until just now. There was nothing I could do. Please believe me!”

  “I do,” I tell him. My body was working again, and I found myself running to him, throwing my arms around him, and holding on tight. I needed the comfort of his presence. I needed, just for a moment, to be held by someone I could trust.

  I understood perfectly, because there was nothing I could do, either. Chen had made it perfectly clear I was working for him now.

  Not that long ago I’d been worrying about where my next case would come from. I didn’t have to wonder anymore. I just have to wonder if this time, I’ve been given more than I can handle.

  When I was in the Marines I faced off with evil men. Men with guns. Men with knives. Men who didn’t care about my life or the lives of anyone else. Some of those men scared me but I never backed down from any of them. I was a soldier. I still am, in my heart.

  There’s no doubt in my mind I would have run from Arnie Chen just now if I’d had the opportunity. There’s something not right with him. Something scary beyond all reason.

  In Harry’s arms, I shiver.

  “It will be all right,” he tells me, stroking his hand over my hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I know he’ll try to keep that promise, but I also know that he’s left me alone twice now with a man who might actually be a literal, real monster of some kind. Did you see the way his eyes were on freaking fire? It’s not Harry’s fault that he keeps disappearing. Whatever magic surrounds Arnie Chen, it’s cancelling out his own magic. Or, whatever. I have no idea how any of this works, but I know it’s not good. If I’m going to survive working for Mister Chen, then I’m going to need backup.

  I have just the guy in mind.

  But first…

  Pushing back in Harry’s arms until I can look up at his face, I manage a smile. “You owe me a wish.”

  His head tilts to one side, dramatically considering what I’d just told him. “Hmm. I believe you are correct. Our deal is for three wishes for each story—”

  “Cases, Harry. They’re called cases.”

  “As you say,” he tells me with a shrug. “Three wishes per case, then. You have only used two this time, so… yes. I believe I owe you one more. What is your heart’s desire, my lady?”

  That’s my Harry. I was scared to death a moment ago, maybe more scared than I’ve been in my whole entire life… which is saying a lot, considering I was deployed in some of the least known and most violent places on Earth. Now, here in his arms, I’m smiling again.

  So what’s my wish?

  I look over at the ruined door to my apartment. Riddled with holes, doorknob lying on the floor. I doubt my renter’s insurance is going to cover the damage. I know there’s a clause in my lease about how the landlord isn’t responsible to replace items intentionally damaged by the occupants. I didn’t put all those holes there but some of it’s my work. So. Either I pay for a new door, or I use a magic wish to get a nice one with a steel core and maybe a metal locking bar that will keep out both bullets and bad guys.

  Or I could wish for a million dollars and buy one myself.

  Only, I can’t do that, because Harry was very clear that if I start using my wishes for selfish reasons then our deal is off, and he’ll disappear from my life again. For all I know, that would negate every part of our deal, even the part where he saved Chris’s life. Crap. I never thought of that part before. I don’t want to lose either of these guys. Not for something selfish. I’m worried about money just like everyone else is worried about money, but I can manage that on my own. I don’t need to wish to become rich.

  But wishing for a door shouldn’t be so bad, right?

  Suddenly, I know exactly what to wish for.

  “Okay, Harry. Here it is. You ready?”

  “Always, my lady.”

  “Good. Then I wish that Arnie Chen’s magic won’t work on you.”

  His eyes get really comically wide in his face. His copper hoop earrings sway when his head bobs in surprise. “My lady… I think that’s brilliant. Magic against magic. Yes. Yes, I think that is one of the most ingenious things I’ve ever had a master wish for. Then as you say, so shall it be done!”

  The snap of his fingers booms in the apartment, impossibly loud, and there’s the feeling of something layering itself over us like an invisible blanket. Like shrink wrap. It lingered, making my skin prickle, and then it was gone.

  Harry lifts up his two hands in front of his face, flexing his fingers and examining them closely. “That was… interesting.”

  “Did it work?” I ask.

  “No way to tell.” He drops his hands to his sides, pursing his lips in thought. “Not until Li Qiang Chen is around me again.”

  Another ghostly shiver runs down my spine, neck to butt cheeks. I wasn’t looking forward to that meeting. Maybe next time, however, I wouldn’t have to leave Harry behind when I met up with Chen. There had been a lot happen over the last few days, and it wasn’t quite over yet. There was a lot left to do.

  For one, I had to reconnect with Amelia Falconi, make sure she was okay, maybe talk to her lawyer and explain a few of the more complicated details in a way that left out any mention of a genie’s magic. I owed her some kind of explanation about the whole thing, too, and I was just going to have to hope that she wouldn’t blab it around to anyone that one of my best friends could snap his fingers and make wishes come true.

  I figure she’ll keep my secret. After all, she’s trying to be a better person.

  There were going to be interviews down at the police precinct. Once Lieutenant Baker got off his high horse, I’m sure he’s going to have me down to give a detailed statement about everything that happened. Or, as detailed as I could be while leaving out any mention of Harry or how I might have snuck into Amelia’s hotel room.

  Then I needed to replace my door. Actually, I might want to put that at the top of my list.

  Right after I make one phone call.

  Walking around the half-wall into the kitchen, I find my purse lying on the floor among the shards of broken glass and other debris that the bodyguard’s bullets had left behind. Oh look, holes in my walls, too. I guess I’ll need to get some plaster to fill them in. Maybe I should have wished for Harry to clean it all up for me.

  I push some of the mess on the table to one side and drop my purse down into the clear patch. There’s my cellphone right where I left it after texting Chris just before all of the chaos broke out. Thankfully it’s still in one piece. I pick it up and I dial Chris’s number by heart.

  “What are you doing?” Harry asks me.

  “I need to talk to Chris. Actually, we need to talk to Chris.” The phone is ringing in my ear. “It’s time that he knew about you, Harry. I can’t have my two best friends in the world be strangers to each other. And besides. If we’re going to have a man like Arnie Chen in our lives…”

  “We’ll need all the help we can get,” he says, finishing my sentence, but not looking too happy about it.

  I think that’s a little odd, considering he knows the danger that Chen represents almost as well as I do. I mean, he didn’t see those flaming eyes, but he knows that Chen wields magic of some kind. You’d think he’d want all hands on deck. He hasn’t even met
Chris yet. He’ll like him when he gets to know him. I know he will. My two guys are going to be the best of friends.

  He frowns at me as the phone continues to ring. I swear to you he can read my thoughts somehow. But what’s the frown for, I wonder…?

  “What’s up, Sid?” I hear Chris say as he answers. “You’re not in trouble again, are you?”

  “Very funny. Listen, when you’re done straightening Baker out down there, can you come over to my apartment for that dinner I promised you?” I look at Harry, giving him one last chance to tell me no. When he nods his agreement with my plan a weight lifts off my shoulders. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet, and we’ve got something to talk about.”

  “Uh, yeah. I can come down but it’s going to be a while. What’s going on?”

  I look up into Harry’s face, that rugged, handsome face that is so expressive but so secretive all at the same time. How do I explain Harry to anyone? I could talk for hours and barely scratch the surface of what my friend means to me.

  “It’s better if you just come over,” I tell Chris. “This is going to be easier to explain if you see it for yourself. Even then, you might not believe it…”

  Epilogue

  Two days later, I’ve got a new door on my apartment. My statements are all signed. The media circus surrounding the death of Amelia Falconi’s bodyguard and the arrest of her agent on murder-for-hire charges has died down. I’ve got a few leads on Mister Chen’s case that I plan on looking into later this afternoon.

  First, I’m needed down at the Seventh Precinct again.

  Chris meets me at the top of the stairs on the second floor. His expression is mixed. He knows what I’m here to do. This was my idea, but he helped me set it up. He’s all for what I’m about to do.

  The thing that’s troubling him is the conversation we had over dinner two days ago, in an apartment with no door and a genie serving us good food and Turkish coffee. The idea of who Harry is—and more importantly, what he is—kind of unsettled him. Chris is a great guy, but he has a very straightforward mind. Right is right, wrong is wrong, and magic is the stuff of fairy tales.