Dragons Luck by Robert Asprin Read Free Book Online

pressed.
    “Pretty sure. But remember, always a surprise or two.” Slim walked toward the door and had it halfway open when he stopped, looking down at his empty hand. He had left his bucket back at the table. Before he even turned, one of the three dogs stood up and was dragging it to him in its teeth. He scritched the dog affectionately and winked to Griffen before leaving.
    If anyone found it odd, no one commented. Or even looked up from their conversations. Which left Griffen stuck on one very important question.
    What could be too odd for the French Quarter?

Seven
    Griffen really didn’t want to talk to Detective Harrison. If nothing else, he wasn’t sure what to say to the man.
    “By the way, Detective, there will be a bunch of weird, supernatural types hitting town over the Halloween weekend. You might want to keep an eye out for them, but don’t lean on them too hard.”
    That would raise some questions Griffen would just as soon have left unasked.
    Still, the vice detective had done him some favors in the past, mostly because he hated feds operating on his turf even more than he hated protected gambling operations. Knowing there was potential trouble coming down the pipeline and not alerting the policeman would be a poor way to pay him back.
    Griffen decided against calling Harrison on his cell phone for fear it would make the whole thing too official for comfort. Instead, he would try to meet with the detective casually, making it appear to be a chance run-in.
    To that end, he put the word out through his various watchers in the Quarter to alert him when Harrison was spotted in the area but not actively working.
    He thought this would buy him a bit of time to figure out what he was going to say, but the call came back almost immediately, letting him know that Harrison was eating at Yo Mama’s.
    Sometimes he wished his network of watchers was a little less efficient.
    Padre, one of his favorite bartenders, was behind the bar when he rolled in. Catching his glance, the man jerked his head slightly toward one of the back booths, then rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. Not knowing quite what to make of the signal that had been passed to him, Griffen made his way toward the indicated booth. It didn’t take him long to figure out what Padre had been trying to tell him.
    Harrison, as always looking more like an overweight biker than a cop, was sprawled loosely in the last booth, a half-full bottle of beer in front of him.
    “Well, look who’s here,” the detective drawled. “My friend the Grifter… or should I say Mr. McCandles. Pull in, son. Let me buy you a round or two.”
    Harrison waved at Padre as Griffen settled into the seat across from him. The young dragon certainly didn’t need to use his enhanced powers of observation to realize that Harrison was more than slightly tight.
    “So, what can I do for you?” Harrison said, his words a little slurred. “The only time I see or hear from you is when you want a favor. Nobody wants to drink with a cop except other cops.”
    “Are you okay, Detective?” Griffen said, genuinely concerned. “You seem a little out of it. Is anything wrong?”
    “Wrong?” Harrison said, louder than was necessary. “How could anything be wrong? I’m a cop with the NOPD. We’ve got the world by the short and curlies. Ask anyone. Better yet, read the newspaper. Everybody loves us.”
    Padre brought over the round of drinks. As he set Griffen’s Irish in front of him, he caught his gaze again and widened his eyes slightly in mock exasperation. Griffen understood completely and sympathized. Dealing with drunks was an unpleasant but nightly occurrence for anyone working in the Quarter. Dealing with a drunken cop in your bar, however, was a no-win scenario for any bartender.
    “I was just curious,” Griffen said, pointedly ignoring the detective’s condition. “We’ve got the Halloween weekend rolling up on us. Is that a problem for you and yours? Do you have to lay