01 - Goblins by Charles Grant - (ebook by Undead)

thin, with short black hair brushed behind her ears, hard black eyes, and a voice that husked with too much
liquor, too many cigarettes. Her right hand held a floral sheet modestly over
her breasts, while her left hand held a tumbler of bourbon and ice.
    “I am not a lush, though,” she insisted, waving the glass from side to side.
“Like the French, I always have a little something with every meal. It’s
supposed to be good for the heart and circulation.”
    Carl stood at the low, twelve-drawer dresser and watched his reflection
trying to make sense of his tie. “That’s wine, Babs. Wine.”
    She shrugged. “Who gives a damn. It’s working, right? So who cares?”
    He didn’t argue. Not even twenty-four hours, and he already knew she did not
take lightly to contradiction or correction. Nor did she exaggerate when she had
suggested without being coy or cute that he would have a much more pleasant
evening in her company than the company of a TV, even if it did have free HBO.
    It beat all to hell paying for a room.
    It also afforded him a way to keep tabs on Mulder and his team. Babs, as she
had already proven, knew everything about every blessed person who stayed in her
motel. And if she didn’t know, she found out. There wasn’t, she had confessed, a
whole lot else to do around here.
    “So anyway, I’m figuring one more year, maybe two, sell out and get my buns
to someplace like Phoenix, Tucson, someplace like that. Have you ever been to
Arizona, sugar?”
    He shook his head, damned his tie and yanked it off. He didn’t figure the
major would take him anyplace fancy anyway. There was, as the saying goes, no
love lost between them, and it didn’t bother him a bit. Tonero was an ambitious
little toad, and Carl’s skin crawled each time they met. He didn’t know how
Angie could be from the same mother. Still, the guy had been sincere enough when
they finally connected, and this lunch thing would give him a chance to see
where Frankie had died.
    Once he had done that, gotten the lay of the land, he could take the next
step.
    Whatever that might be.
    “On the other hand, San Diego is supposed to have perfect weather, you know?”
She laughed hoarsely “The trouble is, it’s in California. They hate it when you
drink, smoke, and eat a decent meal, a steak and all. I don’t know if I could
stand it. I’m not too thrilled about those earthquakes, either.”
    He turned and spread his arms. “So? Do I look good enough to see a major?”
    She waggled her heavy eyebrows. “Good enough to eat, if you ask me.”
    He laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the hand that held the
sheet in both of his. The sheet began to slide. “When I’m done, how about I take
you out to dinner?”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “Really, Babs, I’d like to. Is there a place around here, someplace nice?”
    She looked at him carefully.
    The sheet made it to her waist.
    “If you don’t mind driving a little… ?”
    His eyes widened comically, showing her his struggle not to look at her
chest. “A little?”
    “An hour?”
    “What’s an hour?”
    “Atlantic City. There’s some really nice places at Resorts and the Taj.” Then
she stuck her tongue out and laughed, pulled his hands to her breast, and stuck
her tongue out again. “Just so you don’t forget.”
    He kissed her then, long and soft. “Like I would,” he whispered.
    “Liar.”
    “Maybe.” He slipped away and stood. “But I’m damn cute, right?”
    She didn’t laugh, didn’t smile.
    He leaned over and kissed her again, quickly but just as earnestly “See you
later.”
    “I’ll be here, sugar. No place else to go.”
    He blew her a kiss from the door, closed it behind him, and hurried down the
long gold and royal blue corridor. Her apartment was above the office, tucked
behind the crown facade, and he used the outside back stairs to get to his car,
hastily parked there when he had spotted that redheaded agent pull up not long
after he