receiver.
"I’m fine, Maggie-girl!” he said. “I’m fine. There's
no reception in the desert.”
He sounded like he was talking into a tin can, but I still
heard the edge in his voice.
I closed my door and locked it.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“Listen, there is a second comb…”
“I know. And a third comb. I just left Xiaoming’s place,”
I said, looking up at our cranky friend’s apartment. “Just to clarify our
earlier conversation, I thought we weren’t ever going to work with Mr. Smith
ever again, which is funny, because you left your folder and it happened to
have Mr. Smith’s job in there.”
“After you left to track down that genie, Maggie, I opened
up the envelope and realized what it was. The vampires are trying to assemble
the Empress’s Set.”
“Yah, Xiaoming got me up to speed.”
“Did you get the necklace?”
“No,” I replied. “I caught the guy, but he didn't have it.”
My dad let loose with a tirade of expletives. I held the
phone away from my ear until he wound down.
“God, Dad, you sound just like Xiaoming.”
“We hit it off.”
“Listen, I’ll find the necklace. I'll find the third
comb. It’s gonna be okay. Where are you?”
“I’m leaving Randsburg,” he said.
“I don’t even know where that is.”
“Don’t worry about it. It's got an old silver mine. Mr.
Smith said in his envelope the jade comb would be there and it was.”
“Well… good job, Dad. Sorry you had to fight some
werewolves. Um… do you want me to pick up a pizza… or something…?”
I had no idea what you’re supposed to say to someone who you
thought might have been ripped apart by vicious monsters and then turns out to not
only be just fine but also managed to secure a really important artifact in his
downtime.
“Listen, Maggie, I’m taking the comb to Ghost Town tonight.”
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa WHOA. Ghost Town? Not ‘a ghost town’
but ' The Ghost Town’?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Why in cuss would you think that was a good idea?” I
asked.
“Mr. Smith said so."
"And if Mr. Smith told you to jump off a bridge, you'd
think that was a good idea, too?"
"You think bringing this mess home is a better idea?
You wanna explain to your mother why a pack of werewolves ate her hibiscus?"
I looked up at Xiaoming's apartment. Mom sure as hell
didn't need us to bring something ugly back from the office. I should have
listened to that pesky little voice in my head that knew Mr. Smith was
trouble. I KNEW he was. If I had just told him MacKay & MacKay Tracking
was closed for the weekend, we'd all be kicking back watching reruns instead of
making runs out to the desert...
I think Dad took my silence as ire instead of
introspection, because he sounded like he was trying to smooth things over, "Listen,
there's a lot of silver in the ground out there in Ghost Town and a bunch of poltergeists
to guard it. If dumping things in the desert is good enough for the mob, it is
good enough for us, right Maggie-girl?"
"Why can't Mr. Smith just destroy it?" I asked,
feeling like this whole drama could be over with a hammer and a couple of whacks.
"Who knows? But I've picked up several items for him
over the years and he's always had me drop them off in Ghost Town. It's an
easy game. Probably where he keeps his secret lair. I'm betting it's safer
than hiding it in a hole in his backyard."
I couldn't believe my dad, "You never bothered to
mention to me that you were making regular trips out there because...?"
"Why? You hate Ghost Town."
"Touché."
"Listen, in the envelope was the info on the quartz
comb, too, Maggie. I put it in the safe. Can you track it down? Meet me out
in Ghost Town? I'll show you all my old haunts.”
"Nyuck, nyuck, funny guy."
There are big, tough football linebackers out there who are
afraid of spiders. And I might be able to stake a vampire with my eyes closed
and one arm tied behind
"I’m fine, Maggie-girl!” he said. “I’m fine. There's
no reception in the desert.”
He sounded like he was talking into a tin can, but I still
heard the edge in his voice.
I closed my door and locked it.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“Listen, there is a second comb…”
“I know. And a third comb. I just left Xiaoming’s place,”
I said, looking up at our cranky friend’s apartment. “Just to clarify our
earlier conversation, I thought we weren’t ever going to work with Mr. Smith
ever again, which is funny, because you left your folder and it happened to
have Mr. Smith’s job in there.”
“After you left to track down that genie, Maggie, I opened
up the envelope and realized what it was. The vampires are trying to assemble
the Empress’s Set.”
“Yah, Xiaoming got me up to speed.”
“Did you get the necklace?”
“No,” I replied. “I caught the guy, but he didn't have it.”
My dad let loose with a tirade of expletives. I held the
phone away from my ear until he wound down.
“God, Dad, you sound just like Xiaoming.”
“We hit it off.”
“Listen, I’ll find the necklace. I'll find the third
comb. It’s gonna be okay. Where are you?”
“I’m leaving Randsburg,” he said.
“I don’t even know where that is.”
“Don’t worry about it. It's got an old silver mine. Mr.
Smith said in his envelope the jade comb would be there and it was.”
“Well… good job, Dad. Sorry you had to fight some
werewolves. Um… do you want me to pick up a pizza… or something…?”
I had no idea what you’re supposed to say to someone who you
thought might have been ripped apart by vicious monsters and then turns out to not
only be just fine but also managed to secure a really important artifact in his
downtime.
“Listen, Maggie, I’m taking the comb to Ghost Town tonight.”
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa WHOA. Ghost Town? Not ‘a ghost town’
but ' The Ghost Town’?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Why in cuss would you think that was a good idea?” I
asked.
“Mr. Smith said so."
"And if Mr. Smith told you to jump off a bridge, you'd
think that was a good idea, too?"
"You think bringing this mess home is a better idea?
You wanna explain to your mother why a pack of werewolves ate her hibiscus?"
I looked up at Xiaoming's apartment. Mom sure as hell
didn't need us to bring something ugly back from the office. I should have
listened to that pesky little voice in my head that knew Mr. Smith was
trouble. I KNEW he was. If I had just told him MacKay & MacKay Tracking
was closed for the weekend, we'd all be kicking back watching reruns instead of
making runs out to the desert...
I think Dad took my silence as ire instead of
introspection, because he sounded like he was trying to smooth things over, "Listen,
there's a lot of silver in the ground out there in Ghost Town and a bunch of poltergeists
to guard it. If dumping things in the desert is good enough for the mob, it is
good enough for us, right Maggie-girl?"
"Why can't Mr. Smith just destroy it?" I asked,
feeling like this whole drama could be over with a hammer and a couple of whacks.
"Who knows? But I've picked up several items for him
over the years and he's always had me drop them off in Ghost Town. It's an
easy game. Probably where he keeps his secret lair. I'm betting it's safer
than hiding it in a hole in his backyard."
I couldn't believe my dad, "You never bothered to
mention to me that you were making regular trips out there because...?"
"Why? You hate Ghost Town."
"Touché."
"Listen, in the envelope was the info on the quartz
comb, too, Maggie. I put it in the safe. Can you track it down? Meet me out
in Ghost Town? I'll show you all my old haunts.”
"Nyuck, nyuck, funny guy."
There are big, tough football linebackers out there who are
afraid of spiders. And I might be able to stake a vampire with my eyes closed
and one arm tied behind
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