08bis Visions of Sugar Plums
of Morning Glory paint. And everyone knows elves work at night. My goodness, Sandy has enough labor problems without having a whole crew sit out until the stores open at nine A.M."
    "I thought they weren't actually elves."
    "Real elves, fake elves... what's the difference? They all get time and a half after five o'clock."
    Diesel leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. "When was the last time you talked to Sandy?"
    "He called me at lunchtime." Elaine pressed her lips together.
    "Did you tell him I was looking for him?"
    "Yes." Elaine glanced at me and then looked back at Diesel. "I've been trying to be discreet in front of Ms. Plum."
    "Too late for that," Diesel said. "I was dropped into her kitchen."
    Elaine looked horrified. "How did that happen?"
    Diesel did a palms up and an I don't know shrug. "It would have to be a team effort. I'm not easy to move."
    Elaine wiped her hands on her apron. "I'm sorry, but Sandy doesn't want to talk to you. He wants to be left alone."
    "I'm curious," Diesel said. "Why the name Sandy Claws?"
    Elaine took a tray of cookies from the oven and set them on top of the stove. "His birth name was Sandor Clausen. We thought it was appropriate that he return to his birth name now that he's retired. Sandy Claws seemed like a natural derivative."
    "Sandor Clausen," Diesel said. "I didn't read that far back in the file."
    Hold on here. File? What the heck are they talking about? Okay, now I'm really confused. Clearly, Elaine and Diesel know each other. It sounds like they recognized each other from the very beginning, and Diesel kept that tidbit of information secret from me. This was presenting me with the opportunity to practice some anger management.
    "Sandor wants to make toys. He should be able to do what he wants in retirement," Elaine said.
    "No one cares if he makes toys in his retirement," Diesel said. "I'm here because Ring followed him out."
    The surprise was obvious. "Ring!"
    Diesel pushed off the counter, took a cookie, and turned to leave. "You have to persuade Sandor to cooperate with me," he said to Elaine. "I'm trying to protect him."
    Elaine nodded. "I didn't know about Ring."
    Ring? Am I understanding this correctly? There's someone or something named Ring involved in this mess?
    I didn't say a word until we were back in the Jag. I was trying to look casual, but I was fuming inside. I felt like demon Stephanie with glowing red eyeballs and snarling gargoyle mouth. Fortunately, the image was all internal. Or at least I hoped it was all internal. "What the hell was that all about?" I asked Diesel, making an effort to squelch the demon thing, going with steely eyes and tight lips, instead.
    Diesel turned in his seat and looked at me. Thinking. Making silent assessments.
    "Trying to decide what to tell me?" I asked, still sticking with the steely eyes.
    "Yeah." He was Mr. Serious. Not smiling.
    I waited him out.
    "Some human beings have the ability to operate beyond what are considered to be normal limitations," Diesel finally said. "Most of these people tend to have rogue personalities and work pretty much alone, playing by their own rules. Sandor was one of the best. Very powerful and very good. Unfortunately, he's old, and he's lost his power. So he's retired. Usually retirees go into an assisted living complex in Lakewood. Sandor tried it and decided he wanted out."
    "And Ring?"
    "Ring's a bad guy. Old, like Sandor. The story I was told is that Ring and Sandor were best friends when they were kids. I guess they both knew they were different, and this was a secret they shared. As they got older the differences in their personalities drove a wedge between them. Ring was using his power to dominate people and to amuse himself. And Sandor was using his power mostly to clean up after Ring. When they reached full power in their early twenties, some of Ring's peers got together and Ring was told to stop all superpower activity.
    "Ring refused to stop, of course. Ring

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