The Voodoo Killings by Kristi Charish Page A

worry about getting creosote on his coat sleeves. “Please, Kincaid.”
    “Nate, I’m broke .”
    “You just blew five hundred on brains!”
    “What the hell? Were you watching Mork count it over my shoulder?”
    “Kincaid, I’m desperate—”
    “Nate, no.”
    “Pleeaasseee—”
    Too late. Lee leaned across the bar so her face was mere inches from Nate’s. “Nathan Cade. Where is my money?”
    Nate’s expression was immediately sheepish. “Hi Lee, how are you? Been, what, two, three weeks now?” Nate glanced at me, pleading.
    Lee turned to look at me too. Waiting.
    I sighed. “How the hell did you get so irresponsible?”
    “More money than sense and an army of professional handlers?”
    “You’re doing the D&D gig next Sunday,” I said to him.
    Nate held up both hands. “Totally. I’m in. They can dress me up as a fairy queen for all I care.”
    “It’s elves. And they might.” I turned to Lee. “I’ll cover it.”
    Lee nodded and gave Nate one last even stare. “You are lucky, Nathan Cade. Usually I would not have been so generous.”
    Done with Nate, Lee started to pour the green, mojito-like contents of one of the blenders into glasses when something caught her attention in the office. She abandoned the drinks and headed for her door. On the way, she shouted what was clearly an order in Chinese, and Mork stepped out of the back hall, removed a thick leather apron and came behind the bar to finish filling drink orders for the increasing crowd of zombies.
    Wonders never ceased. Mork not only understood Chinese, he was actually pulling his weight at the bar.
    “Line up, already,” Mork shouted. “This isn’t a feeding trough.”
    So he didn’t quite have Lee’s grace, and if the place hadn’t looked like a Chinese western before…
    “Incoming,” Nate said.
    I checked over my shoulder. Cameron had abandoned the pinball machine and was heading our way.
    “Ran out of quarters,” he said when he reached us, doing his best not to look at Nate.
    Nate may have been irresponsible, but he was not insensitive. He knew the effect ghosts have on zombies, especially new ones. He finished off his beer and nodded at Cameron. “Nice to meet you. See you at home, Kincaid.” He dissolved off the chair to find his own way back to the mirror.
    The zombie sitting on the other side of Nate glanced down at my cooler as Nate vanished. He looked away as soon as he caught me noticing.
    I slid off the stool and grabbed the cooler. “I don’t know about you, Cameron, but I’m about ready to blow this Popsicle stand.” I would have beelined out of the bar right then if Lee hadn’t reappeared at the entrance to her office. She inclined her chin and motioned for us to follow her.
    There were some things you didn’t do in the underground city; ignoring Lee was one of them.
    Cameron in tow, I made my way around the bar and deposited him outside Lee’s office door. “Stay right here, Cameron. I’ll just be a couple minutes.” I hoped.
    Lee stood at her desk, her back to me. No redecorating in here; it hadn’t needed it. Lee’s office achieved a level of tidiness I wouldn’t ever aspire to. The only thing that was out of place was a desk drawer with an ornate antique lock I’d never noticed before, which was standing open.
    I cleared my throat. “Lee?” I said. “Thanks for letting Nate’s bar tab slide so long.”
    She glanced over her shoulder at me, a frown twisting her scars. “Oh—that.”
    “Yeah, well, if you wanted to do me a real favour, you’d cancel Nate’s tab.”
    She turned to face me. “Why on earth would I do that? I make a great deal of money off Nate. Besides, when he can’t pay, you do.”
    I was about to shoot back about basing her business model on Nate’s irresponsibility when I noticed she was holding a small gold cellphone. I don’t know why I was taken aback; I mean, I have a whole drawerful of disposable cellphones. While Lee didn’t exactly make a point of keeping