“Yeah, so I’m in there, and I’m walking around and what do I see? Lizzy’s Cookies! I’m sure you know all about this, but I was excited. These are my favorite cookies. Mint chocolate chip.” He handed me a bag. “And now I can buy them at the grocery store!”
I pulled a packet of cookies out of the bag. They had the Ammon Enterprises logo on them. In small black letters under the large black and gold logo it said LIZZY’S COOKIES. I opened the packet and tried one.
“This is great,” I said. “These are my cookies all right.”
Except I didn’t feel great. I felt deflated. Like someone had let all the air out of my balloon. I’d given away my cookie recipe to a man who was trying to turn into a demon. I read the ingredients label. Red dye number seventeen and something I couldn’t pronounce. If I stabbed myself in the eye with the butcher knife it would be less painful.
“There were a bunch of other Lizzy’s Cookies there, too, but I only bought these,” Nergal said. “They were pricey, and coroners don’t make all that much money.”
I led him into the kitchen, cracked open a bottle of red wine, and poured out two glasses. I heard the front door open and close, Carl raced in, and Diesel followed.
“Theodore brought me cookies,” I told Diesel.
“They’re Lizzy’s Cookies,” Nergal said. “I found them in the grocery store.”
Diesel took a cookie from the bag and ate it. “Yep, they’re Lizzy’s Cookies all right.” He looked over at me. “No wonder you’re drinking.”
“We’re celebrating,” I said.
Diesel grinned. “I bet.”
Nergal’s phone buzzed with a text message.
“Jeez,” he said. “They’re dropping like flies today. I have to go.”
I added a couple of my chocolate peanut butter chip cookies to his bag and handed it back to him. “Thanks for stopping by to show this to me,” I said. “We’ll have to get together sometime when you’re not on call.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Nergal said. “I bet you have all sorts of fun stories about your adventures to save the world and everything.”
I closed the door after him and drained my wine glass. “He’s going to get another text tonight,” I said to Diesel, “because I’m going to kill Ammon.”
“Ammon didn’t waste any time getting these cookies into production.”
“They have artificial ingredients! He added coloring and preservatives.”
“No one will notice. The writing on the bag was very small. It’s the American way.”
“It’s not the American way. The American way is to have quality and purity.”
Diesel refilled my wine glass. “I like your thinking,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
“Steak and potatoes.”
“I really like your thinking.”
I went to the kitchen, turned the oven on, and put the potatoes in.
“Would you still like me if I couldn’t cook?”
“Yeah, you’re cute. Cooking is the icing on the cupcake.”
“Okay, suppose I wasn’t cute. Suppose I was fat and ugly. Would you like me then?”
“Let me get this straight. You can’t cook and you’re fat and ugly?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you mean?”
“No. I’m nice.”
I put an onion on the chopping block and started to slice it.
“What about special talents?” he asked. “Are you good in bed? Can you give a deep-tissue massage?”
“Good grief.”
“I’m just trying to get a grip on this,” Diesel said. “Suppose the situation was reversed, and I was fat and ugly. Would you still like me?”
“Half the time I don’t even like you now.”
“I get that, but what about the other half?”
“I don’t know. What are your skills? Can you give a deep-tissue massage?”
“Honey, I’m going so deep on you tonight I might not be able to find my way out.”
I almost sliced my finger off.
“Looks like you nicked yourself,” Diesel said. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
“No! I want you to go into the living room and watch television with Carl. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The dinner dishes were in the dishwasher, the kitchen was clean, and we were watching a ball game drag on between the Red Sox and the Mets. Diesel stood and stretched. When he stretched he raised his arms and his T-shirt rode up giving me a glimpse of tanned, perfectly defined abs. I’d seen them before, plus a lot more, but it didn’t matter…it was always good.
“Do you need anything from the kitchen?” he asked.
“Nope, I’m okay,” I said.
Diesel ambled off and Rutherford called me.
“I found it! I found the stone. I know it’s the stone because it’s in the leather pouch. It was buried under an azalea bush. How soon can we get the treasure moved back to the vault?”
“I’ll need at least a couple hours to gather it together. I’ll call you when we can arrange the transfer.”
“Remember, we need to do this before Mr. Ammon is released from the hospital.”
“No problem. I’ll get back to you later tonight.”
Diesel returned to the living room with a couple cookies. “What’s up?”