“Being serious here, Stevie.”
I knew this tone. He was jealous of Win and feeling displaced. “Buddy, I’d no sooner replace you than I would one of my limbs. You’re in it to win it for as long as my human years allow. No way you’re getting away from me. Yes, Win’s a big part of that now, but sometimes we have to make sacrifices in order to survive. We needed a job and a place to live. He gave that to us in spades. And you have to admit; he’s not horrible to have around. In fact, as I recall, in the beginning you were pretty smitten with his accent.”
Belfry grumbled. “That was before he took charge of our lives.”
“I get that he’s sort of got us by the short hairs, but I don’t believe he’s bossy because he’s a jerk. He’s just a bossypants. I guess spies have to know how to take charge if they’re taking down guys who want to blow the world up, right? Now c’mon, no more talk of us breaking up because I need this shower desperately. You’re Sonny to my Cher. I got you, babe.”
Stepping into the bathroom, I winced. There was a tub, sure enough. A rusty bucket that probably had once been a beautiful claw foot but was now spotted with corrosion.
Though, in Enzo’s favor, there was a new shower curtain and showerhead.
But that wasn’t all there was.
In the corner of this vast bathroom, with its endless torn linoleum flooring and ugly pink toilet and cracked sink, sat a variety of potted plants.
Belfry zoomed around the room with a squeak of excitement. “Did you do this for me?”
“I had nothing to do with it. It must be from your ex-boyfriend, Winterbutt. Maybe he wants to get back together?” I teased, noting fresh towels sat on the toilet seat.
“Okay, fine,” Bel conceded. “He can stay. But just you remember who got you through the almost meteor crash of 2006.”
“You were a real rock while I talked that warlock off the ledge, buddy,” I said, blowing a kiss to him.
Cotton ball bats are notorious for snuggling together for warmth when they sleep—they typically do that beneath the leaves of a tropical plant in a tropical locale. Because Belfry was a loner, his plant/bed meant everything to him. It was like a slice of home.
On more than one occasion, I’d kicked myself for not taking Belfry’s favorite plant bed with me when I was booted out of Paris.
But Win had taken care of that by providing every kind of broad-leaf plant he could manage, tucked into beautiful ceramic planters in gentle whites and a soft turquoise.
I don’t know how he’d managed to get them here, and I don’t know how he knew Bel really needed a boost, but he had.
That was all that mattered.
Chapter 11
“Stevie—time to wake up, Snugglebunny. The day awaits!”
I flapped a hand at my ear and the British invasion growling in it. “Go away. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable an air mattress is? I’ve had three hours of sleep total, Win.”
Our meeting last night ran into a snafu when I was too tired to keep my eyes open. Win made himself scarce after showing me where Enzo had put the air mattress in order to let me get some sleep.
When I’d finally crawled into bed, I couldn’t turn my brain off. If I wasn’t trying to figure out who’d want to hurt a harmless fake medium and beloved town favorite, I was wondering what Win looked like. My Internet was spotty, so doing much research until I figured that out was difficult at best, especially with Win always nearby.
Was he harder like Tom Hardy or Daniel Craig? Or was he the suave Sean Connery/Roger Moore type? Or maybe I was glamorizing him altogether too much. Maybe he was a geek like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory.
And then I thought maybe I just shouldn’t worry about what he looked like because he would always be a voice—sometimes an interfering, annoying one, waking me up when I could barely prop my eyes open.
“We have people to see and things to do today. Up and at ’em. Also, you’ll be glad to know your bed’s being delivered this afternoon, along with a couch. Won’t a couch be nice to sit by the fire?”
My head popped up as I spit my hair out of my mouth and rubbed my eyes. “You got me a bed? How did you arrange for a bed, and a couch, too? Are you off bribing more psychics to do your dirty work when I’m not looking?”
“Hah. You’re funny, even in the early morning hours before coffee—which I understand is an addiction of yours. I most certainly did not bribe another psychic. I had a list of things I knew you’d need and Madam Z purchased them for me online just before she died, using my credit card. Oh, and I added your name to my credit cards as well. For life’s little emergencies.”
There was that twist of my heart in my chest again. His fondness for MZ was nothing short of endearing, and I wanted to find out who’d killed her because of it.