“Speaking of, how’s all”—I made a circle with my forefinger—“this going? The magical stuff?”
“We solved that case you helped with.” He beamed.
“Oh yeah?” I looked up from the menu. “Who did it?”
“The daughter.” His grin was triumphant. “We found the sword at her house. She hadn’t even cleaned off the blood.” He shook his head. “She butchered her own father. We’re not sure what she was after yet.”
I tsked and resumed looking over the menu. “I’d find that out before you close the case. If it’s magical in nature, and valuable enough to kill someone over, more people will try to get in on it. Magical people can be ruthless scavengers.”
“Doubt it. It was a family spat.”
I wiped the sudden crinkle from my brow. I didn’t work for the MLE office anymore. Their lack of thoroughness wasn’t my problem. “Right. What are you going to have?”
The dinner passed with stilted conversation, largely due to my continual dropping of the conversational ball. My mind kept wandering, and try as I might, I couldn’t keep it rooted to the conversation. Finally, the dinner was over and we found ourselves outside.
“What’s next?” J.M. asked, standing too close.
I took a step away, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “You know what? I think I’m going to head off. I have a friend I want to visit.”
“Oh.” His expression fell, and he looked around. “Here?”
“Just”—I motioned—“up the way.”
“Oh. Well…okay. Are you sure I can’t take you for a drink?”
“No, but thanks for dinner. Good luck with the transition. I think you’ll do great.” I put up my hand for a high five. His immediate compliance was a childhood reaction that required no thought, if his obvious confusion was any indication. I threw him a wave and headed away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The hot, sticky night embraced me. I’d missed New Orleans. Sure, Seattle was green and mild and beautiful, but it didn’t have enough crazy for my taste. It didn’t have enough old-world and deep magical traditions. Hell, it didn’t have enough nudity. What was the fun in that?
Jazz music clattered out of the bars and people danced on the streets as I made my way to my destination. Shouts and laughter filled the night. Empty plastic drink containers and discarded wrappers littered the curbs. I found the man I was looking for where I always did, leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette.
I slipped behind a group of people walking in a mostly straight line until I was near him. Then, for old times’ sake, I stepped out suddenly. “Hiya, Red. What’s new?”
Red flinched and froze, his eyes wide as he stared at me.
I covered his bony shoulder in heavy pats, making him flinch with each one. “Did you miss me?”
He shook himself out of his fear-induced coma. “Reagan. You’re back.” He did not sound happy about it. “I don’t know anything.”
I knew that tone. He did know something. Something good.
Red was the guy I could always shake information out of in this town. If he didn’t know it directly, he always knew a rumor that at least gave me a direction. It took the trip to Seattle for me to realize how much I relied on him.
Lucky for him, I was off-duty. Would be for the foreseeable future. I did not care about his gossip. The opposite, in fact—I didn’t want to know. This visit was for payback.
“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” I yanked him toward the bar.
“You know I don’t drink.”
“When has that ever stopped you from sitting and watching me drink enough for the both of us?” I pushed him ahead of me and into a booth at the back of the dark bar. After I’d gotten a double shot of whiskey for each of us (I’d be drinking both), I sat down in the booth with him, recognizing his trepidation.
No, I didn’t want anything, but it wouldn’t do to let him get too comfortable. Just because I was leaving the bounty hunter gig for a while, didn’t mean I needed to close the door on information. Insurance, and all that.
“So you heard I went to Seattle, huh?” I sipped my drink, watching him.
“Roger got a call from a shifter named Joe in Seattle. Joe said you did Seattle a service of some kind. Roger didn’t say what.” Red licked his lips, still nervous. Usually he settled down when he realized I wasn’t going to hurt him. He clearly had a really good secret. I still didn’t want to know. “Our orders on you are on hold. We were told not to track and report.”
“Roger had you guys on track and report with me? That explains why you were always hanging around.” I shook my head. That was annoying, but good on the bartender for fulfilling his end of the bargain. “But that’s on hold?”
“Yeah.”
“Not called off for good?”
Red shrugged helplessly. “You’re…you. You cause trouble.”
“I clean up trouble, actually. That’s what bounty hunters do.”
“You cause it in order to clean it up.”
“Well now, that’s just confusing.” I let it go. “Listen, you’ve helped me out a lot over the years.”
He eyed me warily.
“You made a lot of marks really easy to find,” I continued.
His brow lowered. He expected the shoe to drop, and equally expected to be under it.
My manic grin probably wasn’t helping matters.
“So I’m going to give you a whole bunch of gossip.” I waited to see his reaction. It was still one of mistrust.
“About what?” he asked.
“My foray in Seattle. What went down, the mages’ involvement, and how I helped. How Joe’s bar was blown up. You know, a bunch of stuff no one knows but…well, me. And soon, you.”
Distrust crossed his features. “Why would you tell me?” Then the wariness kicked in again. The guy’s face was like a comic book. “Because I don’t have any information to trade. I mean it.”
“Stop taunting me with your secrets. It’s making me want to drag them out of you, and I don’t want to know.” I nearly rubbed my eyes until I remembered I had makeup on. “Why you? Because I’m giving back. But if you don’t want to know, that’s cool. I couldn’t care less.” I made a move to leave.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Red held out a hand. “I’m listening.”
With a smile, I told him the things that were fine for him to know—things that could be spread around and gossiped about without stirring up a lot of drama. Things that would damage the reputation of the guild and make the vampires and shifters look good. Also make the mages of NOLA look good. Sure, there was an ulterior motive—bringing magical people together to combat that corrosive magical force—but Red got to have all of it for absolutely free. It would give him something a small-time player like him rarely had: Roger’s undivided attention.
When I was finished, I leaned over to pat him again—I loved making him flinch; my bad—and headed out. “Good luck, buddy.”