I remember what Ben said about forging our loan application, so I grasp at that thin thread of hope and hang on. “Are you from Drummond Savings and Loan?”
The man takes off his fedora, revealing blond hair so stiff and coifed it looks like the top of a meringue pie. “Afraid not.” He’s about to place his white hat on the bar, but then, I guess thinking better of it, rests it in his lap. “Pour me a whiskey, will you?”
“Of course, sir.”
He waits a beat before asking, “What’s your name?”
“Joan.” I pull out a tumbler from under the bar, but it takes three tries before I can actually open the whiskey bottle’s crusty cap. “And who do I have the pleasure of serving?”
“Name’s Harrison Gunn. You Kendrick’s daughter?”
“Niece,” I correct quickly. The notion of being Jed’s daughter sends a small current of disgust rippling under my skin. “My mama was Jed’s sister-in-law.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be tending bar?”
I set the whiskey in front of him. “I’m eighteen. Suppose I’m old enough.”
Mr. Gunn fingers the glass but doesn’t pick it up. “I’ve been told you have something . . . stronger here,” he says to the tumbler, then flits his white-blue eyes up at me. “Is that right?”
I stop myself before I glance at the door to our shining room like a reflex. I try to figure out which way this fella’s angling: his vague questions, his three-piece suit, his city accent. Another fear starts to sink in. “Sir, we don’t want any trouble.” Last thing we need is some sort of bust for sorcering, on top of the shit storm we’re about to weather. “Down here, we deal with Agent Barnes,” I say, despite the fact that we can’t afford to pay off the local Prohibition agent anymore. “Mr. Barnes handles everything related to magic. He’ll explain, set you straight—”
“Relax, I’m not with the government. Far from it.” Gunn studies the doors on the far wall. “I just wanted to make sure I had my information right. I was told Jed was a first-class sorcerer. That the Kendricks were known for a special magic.”
I let out a breath. “Yes, sir. Jed’s shining room’s downstairs. We’ve got two performances every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, as well as by request, from reliable sources.”
When he doesn’t answer, I add, “It’s a dollar for the performance and a shot of sorcerer’s shine. Jed’s no joke—the high’ll last an hour, blast you to another universe.” I cringe as I recite Ben’s canned sales line. “I promise you won’t be disappointed—the performance started a couple minutes ago. If you hurry—”
“I’ve come a long way to meet your uncle,” Gunn interrupts. “Drove straight from DC. Think you could arrange a special solo performance?”
A solo performance. I’m about to tell this man that these days, Jed barely makes it through one show without getting lost in a shot of his own magic, but something about Gunn’s coat, his hat, his stare, makes me bite my tongue. “Aren’t there sorcerers up in Washington?” I say slowly. “Pity you had to make such a long drive for a shot of shine.”
Gunn reaches out and touches the rim of his whiskey. “My plans concern a much grander scale.” He flits a smile at me, a smile that changes his face, makes it softer, more attractive. Younger. “I’ve got a business proposition for your uncle.”
A business proposition. Meaning dollars, more money, our home. I don’t want to sound too eager, too desperate, but I can’t help but blurt out, “Involving what?”
Gunn pauses a long time before answering. “I’m something of a sorcery connoisseur,” he finally says. “I believe in the power of magic. Don’t have the touch myself, but I’ve read almost everything on magic out there. And let’s just say I have a theory, one I need several sorcerers to prove.”
This guy definitely doesn’t look like a scholar, or a scientist. But I don’t let that pierce the hope that’s slowly ballooning inside me. “You mean, like an experiment?”
“Of sorts,” he says tightly. “I’m scouting the entire country for the best of the best, bringing any sorcerer with strong talents, a taste for performance, and a mastery of shine transference up to Washington. I’ll be keeping the ones who prove themselves a cut above the rest.” His eyes flicker to our sad walls again, to my face that I’m sure reads wide and eager, to the water stains on the bar. “And if my little theory pans out, there’s going to be more money floating around than any of us know what to do with.”
I gulp, my heart now flying. “You think Jed could be one of these sorcerers?”