The Devil You Know by P.N. Elrod Page A

this is stuff I know.”
    “I suppose you do.”
    “There’s another part to it—I need to know you can watch my back.”
    That surprised him. >
    “Good. Mouth shut, eyes open, we’ll do okay.”
    “You’re different, Mr. Fleming.”
    I tried not to ask, but the words popped out. “Oh, yeah?”
    “Calmer, more confident than I remember.”
    Could have knocked me over with a feather. “It’s the suit.”
    “If you say so.”
    “I do, and what’s with you giving Izzy the eye?”
    “I’m undead, not dead.”
    “No argument, but I’ll remind you that only last night you were crying into your teacup about Emily.”
    He considered that. “True. But what you said opened my eyes.”
    “Hah?”
    “Your unexpectedly profound statement about it being the lady’s choice. Such is my situation with Emily. The lady made her choice.”
    “You bounce from Emily to a new girl just like that?”
    “Hardly. But Emily’s gone for good, and I’ve been moping for over a month about it. The fact is, it was rather a relief. We’re no longer fighting and hurting each other. I hope she finds happiness. Why should I not seek a portion for myself?”
    “No argument, but—”
    “I have been told many times that it is a free country. Miss DeLeon is over twenty-one and quite able to make her own decisions.”
      “Yeah, but. . .”
    “What?”
    I looked him in the eye. “Izzy is a friend of mine.”
      “Yes. . .?”
    “Make her cry and I will hurt you.”
    He stared, then chuckled. “Well-a-day. Perhaps there is a gentleman lurking under that fedora after all.”
    I wanted to pop him one, just as a public service.
    He looked toward the city room and Clapsaddle’s office. “I still think I should try getting through to that fellow. It won’t take long.”
    “Maybe, but this will be faster.”
    “What will?”
    I punched the button for the elevator. The doors parted instantly since it was still on our floor. Izzy was inside, arms and ankles crossed, leaning on the wall as though settled in for a long wait.
    “This,” I said, stepping in. “There are two things you can rely on in the news trade: that Isabelle DeLeon never turned down a chance for a scoop or a free meal.”
    “Smart aleck,” she said, and told the operator to take us to the lobby. The doors silently shut us in.
    “Can you find Brogan for us?” I asked her.
    “Only if I come along to watch.”
    “Deal.” I put my hand out and we shook, again knowing that Barrett could make her forget anything inconvenient.
    “But Mr. Clapsaddle said that this Brogan was dangerous,” said Barrett. “I should not like to take the lady into anything approaching peril.”
    “Trust me, you want Miss DeLeon where you can see her. It’s when she’s out of sight that she can be a problem.”
    “Really, Fleming—”
    “Yeah, really. She once slipped into the White House without anyone being the wiser.”
    “Indeed?” He looked at her, clearly curious.
    “I’ll tell you about it over dinner, big boy,” she said, linking an arm through his. “A nice dinner. . . .”
    I didn’t say a word about being relegated to the backseat of the Studebaker while Barrett tried charming Isabelle in the front. She’d gotten faster and sharper in two years—and that from a running start—so I wasn’t worried he’d seduce her off her feet when I wasn’t looking. It was educational watching him trying to find out about her while she returned the favor, neither of them getting far, but enjoying the game.
    Izzy gave directions to a New York hotspot that was popular enough to bring in crowds even on a Monday. Well-dressed people loitered around the entrance, waiting for or emerging from cabs. There was no parking nearby, of course. Barrett found an opening a block away, this time pulling in sedately. She told him to lock it, which he did with a slight shrug, then they linked arms and strolled. I was a few steps behind.
    “Fleming?” Izzy paused and turned, her