she did. Either she liked speaking with Thomas or the hallway was colder than I thought. "Who is your friend?"
"Madge Shelly, this is Harry Dresden. I brought him by to talk business with Arturo. Harry's a friend of mine."
"I wouldn't go that far." I smiled a bit and offered my hand.
She fumbled with plates and cups for a moment, and then laughed. "I'll have to give you a rain check. Are you an actor?" Madge asked, her expression speculative.
"To be or not to be," I said. "How now brown cow."
She smiled and nodded at the puppy, who was riding in the curl of my left arm. "And who is your friend?"
"He's the dog with no name. Like Clint Eastwood, but fuzzier."
She laughed again, and said to Thomas, "I see why you like him."
"He's mildly amusing," Thomas agreed.
"He's up past his bedtime," I said. "Don't mean to be rude, but I need to talk to Arturo before I fall asleep on my feet."
"I understand," Madge said. "The music's a little loud in the living room. Thomas, why don't I show you both to the study, and I'll bring Arturo to you."
"Is Justine here?" Thomas asked. His voice held a note of quiet tension to it that I doubted Madge noticed.
"Somewhere," she said vaguely. "I'll tell her you've arrived."
"Thank you."
We followed Madge inside the apartment suite. The living room was fairly dim, but I saw maybe twenty people there, men and women, some of them dancing, others standing and drinking or laughing or talking, like most parties. There was a haze of smoke, and only some of it was from cigarettes. Colored lights shifted and changed in time with the music.
I watched Thomas as we walked through the room. His manner changed subtly, something I could sense without being able to define. He didn't move any more quickly, but his steps became more fluid somehow. He looked around the room as we went through, his eyelids a little heavy, and he started drawing the eyes of every woman we walked past.
I drew no such looks, even with the grey puppy sleeping in the crook of my arm. It's not like I'm Quasimodo or anything, but with Thomas walking through the room like a predator angel, it was tough to compete.
Madge led us past the party room and into a small room with bookshelves and a desk with a computer. "Have a seat and I'll go find him," she said.
"Thank you," I said, and settled down onto the chair at the desk. She left, her eyes lingering on Thomas for a moment before she did. He perched on a corner of the desk, his expression pensive. "You look thoughtful," I said, "which seems wrong somehow. What is it?"
"I'm hungry," Thomas said. "And thinking. Madge is Arturo's first ex-wife."
"And she's hosting a party for him?" I asked.
"Yeah. I never thought she liked the guy much."
"What did she mean about investing?"
Thomas shrugged. "Arturo broke off from a larger studio on the West Coast to found his own. Madge is real practical. She's the kind of person who could despise someone while still being professional and working with him. Acknowledging his talents. If she thought it was a winning bet, she wouldn't be worried that she didn't like the person in charge. It wouldn't be out of character for her to have invested money in Arturo's new company."
"What kind of money are we talking about?"
"Not sure," Thomas said. "Seven figures, maybe more. I'd have to get someone to look."
I whistled. "Lot of money."
"I guess," Thomas said. Thomas was rich enough that he probably didn't have much perspective on the value of a buck.
I started to ask him more questions, but the door opened, and a tall and vigorous man in his fifties entered, wearing dark slacks and a grey silk shirt rolled up over his forearms. He had a head of magnificent silver locks framing a strong face with a dark, short beard. He had a boater's tan, pale smile lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, and large, intelligent dark eyes.
"Tommy!" the man boomed, and strode to Thomas. "Hey, I was hoping I would see you tonight." His voice had a thick accent, definitely Greek. He clapped both hands on Thomas's shoulders and kissed him on either cheek. "You're looking good, Tommy boy, real good. You should come work with me, huh?"
"I don't look good on camera," Thomas said. "But it's good to see you, too. Arturo Genosa, this is Harry Dresden, the