"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 07 - Burnt Offerings" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

only lost a couple of buildings. I want to keep it that way."
I took in a slow breath and let it out. "I'll be happy to help, Captain,
but I honestly don't know what I can do for you."
He pulled out a thick file folder. "Here's everything we've got. Look it
over and call me tonight."
I took the folder from him and sat it in the middle of my desk blotter.
"My number's in the file. Call me. Maybe it's not a firebug. Maybe it's
something else. But whatever it is, Ms. Blake, it can bathe in flames and not
burn. It can walk through a building and shed fire like sprinkling water. No
accelerant, Ms. Blake, but the houses have gone up as if they've been soaked
in something. When we get the wood in the lab, it's clean. It's like whatever
is doing this can force the fire to do things it shouldn't do."
He glanced at his watch. "I'm running late. I'm working on getting you on
this officially, but I'm afraid they'll wait until people are dead. I don't
want to wait."
"I'll call you tonight, but it may be late. How late is too late to call?"
"Any time, Ms. Blake, any time."
I nodded and stood. I offered my hand. He shook it. His grip was firm,
solid, but not too tight. A lot of male clients that wanted to know about the
scars squeezed my hand like they wanted me to cry "uncle." But McKinnon was
secure. He had his own scars.
I'd barely sat back down when the phone rang. "What is it, Mary?"
"It's me," Larry said. "Mary didn't think you'd mind her putting me
straight through." Larry Kirkland, vampire executioner trainee, was supposed
to be over at the morgue staking vampires.
"Nope. What's up?"
"I need a ride home." There was just the slightest hesitation to his voice.
"What's wrong?"
He laughed. "I should know better than to be coy with you. I'm all stitched
up. The doc says I'll be fine."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Come pick me up and I'll tell all." Then the little son of a gun hung up
on me.
There was only one reason for him to not want to talk to me. He'd done
something stupid and gotten hurt. Two bodies to stake. Two bodies that
wouldn't have risen for at least another night. What could have gone wrong? As
the old saying goes, only one way to find out.
Mary rescheduled my appointments. I got my shoulder holster complete with
Browning Hi-Power out of the top desk drawer and slipped it on. Since I'd
stopped wearing my suit jacket in the office, I'd put the gun in the drawer,
but outside the office and always after dark I wore a gun. Most of the
creatures that had scarred me up were dead. The majority I'd done personally.
Silver-plated bullets are a wonderful thing.



2

Larry sat very carefully in the passenger seat of my Jeep. It's hard to sit
in a car when your back has fresh stitches in it. I'd seen the wound. It was