I stooped quickly and used a broken bottle as a scoop. I chased it with the intact bottle, and after a few moments that made me grimace, I had shoved the thing into the broken bottle. I straightened and it fell against the glass with a tiny thump.
I mounted the stairs with the finger resting in the broken glass bottle. I heard McKesson walking back toward me. I thought of a hundred excuses, but I felt sure he wouldn’t fall for any of them. I needed a hiding place for my prize, and I needed it fast. I thought about just dumping the finger into my pocket, but he might well search me if he noticed it was missing. I had to make him believe it had vanished in midst of all the action. I looked around, and saw that the stairs themselves might work. I found a split area of wood and slid the broken bottle inside. It clinked once, then lay quiet.
I marched up the stairs with the other bottle in hand.
“What are you doing with that?”
“It’s a souvenir,” I said, grinning.
He snorted and led the way back up. I followed him. He never searched me, but he didn’t leave me alone in the cellar either. I figured I would have to come back for it at a later date. Uniforms arrived and worked on the place. They weren’t taking pictures and bagging things, they were cleaning up. They eyed me unhappily.
After a half hour I was released. I used my cell to call a cab, which drove me to a gun shop first so I could confirm what I thought was likely—I had a gun permit already, and it applied to any weapon. I still needed more ammo, though, after the encounter with the Gray Men, and I picked up enough for an entire war. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Then I had the cab drop me off at the Lucky Seven so I could check up on Jenna Townsend. I still had the intact wine bottle with me. I took the elevator up and tapped on Jenna’s door. I had to tap a second time. Finally, the door clicked open a crack. She regarded me from the crack with a single, critical eye.
“Are you drunk?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” I said.
“You smell like a gallon of cheap wine.”
“I’m offended,” I said. “It’s very expensive wine.” I held the bottle up for her inspection.
“Chateau Ausone?” she asked. “Bottled in nineteen twenty-six? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s the real deal.”
She let me in after that. She was wearing a tank top and jersey-knit shorts. I admired her while she gathered two clean glasses from the bathroom. I opened the bottle and poured carefully.
“Was it insanely expensive?” she asked.
“The wine?” I asked, shrugging. “It was on sale.”
Jenna shook her pretty head disbelievingly, but she took her glass. I tried mine and found it tart but drinkable.
“Is this some kind of apology?” she asked.
“For what?”
“For not calling me.”
“I didn’t know we were that close.”
She laughed and savored her wine. I took off my coat and went to use her bathroom. When I returned, I saw she had my pistol in her hands. She was inspecting it critically.
“Um,” I said, “is there a problem?”
She sniffed the gun barrel. “This thing has been fired. Did you kill someone?”
I tilted my head quizzically. Holly had asked me a similar question. Jenna had gone as far as digging the gun out of my pocket to have a sniff. How did these women come to suspect these things?
“When was I voted ‘most likely to commit murder’?” I demanded.
“When you showed up late looking banged-up, scared, and soaked in fine wine.”
Women never liked it when you wandered back to them late at night smelling of booze.
“Can’t you just drink your wine?” I asked.
“Did you do something awful, or not?”
“Sort of,” I said.
Jenna frowned and pulled her legs up onto her chair with her.
“Sort of?” she asked, hugging her knees and looking over them at me. “What the hell do you mean, sort of? How do you sort of kill somebody?”
“When you’re not sure the victim was a person in the first place,” I said. “I mean, when you aren’t sure they qualify as human.”
Now I had her full attention. I gave her the story then, leaving out the part about stealing the finger. She was particularly interested in my description of McKesson’s watch.
“That’s how he’s been doing it,” she said. She rested her chin on her knees and stared at nothing intently. “He always knows where one of these doorways is going to open.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but apparently he doesn’t know exactly when. This time they showed up hours after he’d been given the clue.”
“Still, it’s a great power to have. My wedding ring looks unimportant by comparison.”
“Well, his watch hasn’t paid any hotel bills.”
She put her hand on my wrist while I poured a fresh glass of wine. I looked at her in surprise.
“I want that watch,” she said.
I studied her face. “It might not tell you where to find Robert,” I said.
“It’s better than sitting here, doing nothing. If I’d been swallowed by the tornado, I’m sure Robert would be risking everything to find me.”
I nodded, distracted by her fine legs. Maybe he would.