up-river, the louse, but please don’t do anything with Jeremy without talking to me first. See if you can figure out who Jeremy owed, who’s stalking me. But most of all, I need you to keep me safe long enough to get these hoodlums off my back!”
Judging by how slack her jaw went, my first question caught her completely unawares. “You sure the guys keeping tabs on you are the same ones Jeremy got in deep with? No chance it’s something unrelated, something personal to you?”
“I…”
It took her a spell, and a long drag off a newly lit cigarette. (The third, if it matters to you. And yeah, I was counting.)
“I don’t see how. I can’t think of anyone who’d have it in for me. I have no other recent breakups, and while I have some money, I’m hardly loaded. Besides, don’t you suppose the timing suggests…?”
“Sure it does, doll. Coincidences happen, though.”
So, what now? Did I wanna take this gig? Felt bad leaving off the search for Caro, but maybe what I needed was a little time away to let that one stew a bit. Sleep on it for a while, so to speak. And it wouldn’t hurt my case with Raighallan or Herne any if they saw me all wrapped up in something unrelated to their own shindig. And…
And who did I think I was freakin’ kidding? I’d have probably talked myself into working as a live-in maid and trash hauler if she’d asked nice enough. It shoulda bugged me that I was reacting to her that strong, but it didn’t. And I liked it well enough that it didn’t bug me that it didn’t bug me.
That sentence makes sense if you been there. If you haven’t, no words in any language are gonna clear it up any.
“All right, Miss Webb. You got yourself a private shamus.”
A whole pillar of tension snapped inside her and crumbled away. I swear not just her shoulders, but the cigarette also, sagged in relief.
“Thank you.” Not a whisper, quite, but the softest I’d yet heard her.
It made the next bit harder.
“Uhh, Miss Webb…”
“Ramona, please.” That smile again. The room tilted.
That was quick, but I sure wasn’t gonna raise a stink about it.
“Ramona, we do need to discuss—”
“Oh, of course!” She stabbed out the butt in an ashtray that I only now realized she’d produced from her purse halfway through her story—real observant, detective—and reached for a bankbook. “How much?”
“Ten simoleons a day oughta cover basic expenses,” I told her. “After that, we’ll call it…”
Boom. Whim time. Came over me just that sudden. They almost always do.
“Any sorta heirloom. Don’t have to be worth anything, just has to have belonged to one of your parents.”
And whaddaya know, she balked. I mean, I get that it’s a hinky demand, and that mighta accounted for the hesitation, but…
“That’s rather a peculiar request, Mr. Oberon.”
“I’m rather a peculiar detective.”
The nail on one forefinger tapped the bankbook, the other the corner of her lower lip. It was easier not to be mesmerized by the first than the second.
“I’m afraid I’m genuinely uncomfortable with that,” she said finally. “Surely you can accept more traditional payment? As I said, I’m not
wealthy
, but…”
I wanted to say yes, more’n I’d wanted anything in a long while. Almost
did
say yes, caught the word in my throat right before it made a break for it.
But I been living a good while, and Fae who don’t learn to pay attention to their whims and instincts, no matter
what
they’re feelin’… Well, they
don’t
often live a good while. I could only shake my head, much as I came over blue to do it.
“I’m
real
sorry, Ramona. Gimme a mo and I can jot down some references for you.”
Wow
, did her face go cold. As in, “I wasn’t keen on leaning in any closer in case I got frostbitten” kinda cold.
“You cannot possibly be serious.”
So, yeah, not just her expression, then. If she kept talking in
that
tone of voice, I’d hafta thaw out the milk to dip my
Judging by how slack her jaw went, my first question caught her completely unawares. “You sure the guys keeping tabs on you are the same ones Jeremy got in deep with? No chance it’s something unrelated, something personal to you?”
“I…”
It took her a spell, and a long drag off a newly lit cigarette. (The third, if it matters to you. And yeah, I was counting.)
“I don’t see how. I can’t think of anyone who’d have it in for me. I have no other recent breakups, and while I have some money, I’m hardly loaded. Besides, don’t you suppose the timing suggests…?”
“Sure it does, doll. Coincidences happen, though.”
So, what now? Did I wanna take this gig? Felt bad leaving off the search for Caro, but maybe what I needed was a little time away to let that one stew a bit. Sleep on it for a while, so to speak. And it wouldn’t hurt my case with Raighallan or Herne any if they saw me all wrapped up in something unrelated to their own shindig. And…
And who did I think I was freakin’ kidding? I’d have probably talked myself into working as a live-in maid and trash hauler if she’d asked nice enough. It shoulda bugged me that I was reacting to her that strong, but it didn’t. And I liked it well enough that it didn’t bug me that it didn’t bug me.
That sentence makes sense if you been there. If you haven’t, no words in any language are gonna clear it up any.
“All right, Miss Webb. You got yourself a private shamus.”
A whole pillar of tension snapped inside her and crumbled away. I swear not just her shoulders, but the cigarette also, sagged in relief.
“Thank you.” Not a whisper, quite, but the softest I’d yet heard her.
It made the next bit harder.
“Uhh, Miss Webb…”
“Ramona, please.” That smile again. The room tilted.
That was quick, but I sure wasn’t gonna raise a stink about it.
“Ramona, we do need to discuss—”
“Oh, of course!” She stabbed out the butt in an ashtray that I only now realized she’d produced from her purse halfway through her story—real observant, detective—and reached for a bankbook. “How much?”
“Ten simoleons a day oughta cover basic expenses,” I told her. “After that, we’ll call it…”
Boom. Whim time. Came over me just that sudden. They almost always do.
“Any sorta heirloom. Don’t have to be worth anything, just has to have belonged to one of your parents.”
And whaddaya know, she balked. I mean, I get that it’s a hinky demand, and that mighta accounted for the hesitation, but…
“That’s rather a peculiar request, Mr. Oberon.”
“I’m rather a peculiar detective.”
The nail on one forefinger tapped the bankbook, the other the corner of her lower lip. It was easier not to be mesmerized by the first than the second.
“I’m afraid I’m genuinely uncomfortable with that,” she said finally. “Surely you can accept more traditional payment? As I said, I’m not
wealthy
, but…”
I wanted to say yes, more’n I’d wanted anything in a long while. Almost
did
say yes, caught the word in my throat right before it made a break for it.
But I been living a good while, and Fae who don’t learn to pay attention to their whims and instincts, no matter
what
they’re feelin’… Well, they
don’t
often live a good while. I could only shake my head, much as I came over blue to do it.
“I’m
real
sorry, Ramona. Gimme a mo and I can jot down some references for you.”
Wow
, did her face go cold. As in, “I wasn’t keen on leaning in any closer in case I got frostbitten” kinda cold.
“You cannot possibly be serious.”
So, yeah, not just her expression, then. If she kept talking in
that
tone of voice, I’d hafta thaw out the milk to dip my
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