man I told you about."
Arturo looked me up and down. "Tall son of a bitch, huh?"
"I ate my Wheaties," I said.
"Hey, pooch," Arturo said. He scratched the grey puppy behind the ear. The little dog yawned, licked Arturo's hand once, and promptly went back to sleep. "Your dog?"
"Temporarily," I said. "Recovered him for a client."
Arturo nodded, his expression calculating. "You know what a strega is, Mr. Dresden?"
"Practitioner of Italian folk magic," I responded. "Divinations, love potions, fertility blessings, and protections. They also can manage a pretty vicious set of curses with a technique they call the malocchio. The Evil Eye."
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Guess you know a thing or two, huh."
"Just enough to get me into trouble," I said.
"But do you believe in it?"
"In the Evil Eye?"
"Yes."
"I've seen stranger things."
Arturo nodded. "Tommy boy tell you what I need?"
"He said you were worried about a curse. Said some people close to you died."
Arturo's expression flickered for a second, and I saw grief undermine his confidence. "Yes. Two women. Good souls, both."
"Uh-huh," I said. "Assuming there is a curse involved, what makes you think it was meant for you?"
"They had no other contact with each other," Arturo said. "Far as I know, I was the only thing they had in common." He opened a drawer in his desk and drew out a couple of manila file folders. "Reports," he said. "Information about their deaths. Tommy says maybe you can help."
"Maybe," I agreed. "Why would someone curse you?"
"The studio," Arturo said. "Someone wants to stop the company from getting off the ground. Kill it before the first picture gets made."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Protection," Arturo said. "I want you to protect the people on my crew during the shoot. Don't want anything else to happen to anyone."
I frowned. "Can be a tough job. Do you know who would want to stop production?"
Arturo scowled at me and stalked across the room to a cabinet. He opened it and withdrew an already opened bottle of wine. He pulled out the cork with his teeth and took a swig. "If I knew that, I wouldn't need to hire an investigator."
I shrugged. "I'm a wizard, not a fortune-teller. Got any guesses? Anyone who might want to see you fail?"
"Lucille," Thomas said.
Arturo glanced at Thomas, scowling.
"Who is Lucille?" I asked.
"My second ex-wife," Arturo answered. "Lucille Delarossa. But she is not involved."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"She would not," he said. "I am certain."
"Why?"
He shook his head and stared down at his wine bottle. "Lucille… well. Let us say that I did not marry her for her mind."
"You don't have to be smart to be hostile," I said, though I couldn't really think of the last time someone stupid had pulled off powerful magic. "Anyone else? Is there another ex-wife around?"
Arturo waved a hand. "Tricia would not try to stop the picture."
"Why not?" I asked.
"She is the star."
Thomas made a choking sound. "Christ, Arturo."
The silver-maned man grimaced. "No choice. She had a standing contract. Could have killed me in court if I did not cast her."
"Is there an ex-wife number four?" I asked. "I can keep track of three. If there's four, I have to start writing things down."
"Not yet," Arturo muttered. "I am single. So far just the three."
"Well, that's something," I said. "Look, unless whoever is bringing this curse onto you does something right in front of me, there's not a lot I can do. We call a spell like the Evil Eye an entropy curse, and it's damned near impossible to trace any other way."
"My people must be protected from the malocchio," Arturo said. "Can you do that?"
"If I'm there when it goes down, yes."
"How much does that cost?" he asked.
"Seventy-five an hour, plus expenses. A thousand up-front."
Arturo didn't hesitate. "Done. We start shooting in the morning, nine o'clock."
"I'll have to be close. Within sight, if possible," I said. "And the less anyone knows about it, the better."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed. "He'll need a cover story. If he stands around in the open, the bad guy will just wait until he leaves or goes to the bathroom or something."
Arturo nodded. "He can boom for me."
"Boom?" I asked.
"Boom microphone," Thomas supplied.
"Oh. That isn't such a hot idea," I said. "My magic doesn't get on so well with machines and such."
Arturo's face clouded with annoyance. "Fine. Production assistant." Something in his pants made a chirping sound, and he drew a cell phone from his pocket. He held up a hand to me and stepped over to