“The record player!” Two gray heads swiveled, their eyes glittering with Black Friday glee.
Crow cleared his throat to get their attention and pointed toward the tail of the tent.
“Get it!” one shouted.
“Over there, over there!” the other said.
They were off in a flash, zeroing in on an old suitcase-style record player that sat on a pile of crab traps and rusted Christmas tree stands.
For a second, just a flash, I thought the record player glowed with yellow light, but then the wind whipped, buckling the whale’s tail, and the yellow light—if it had even been there—was gone.
“So, seriously. Where did you get all this?” I asked.
“Is that an accusation I hear in your voice? It sounds like you’re trying to accuse me of something.”
“I can throw you in jail for annoying me, you know.”
“Like you would.”
There was that. I didn’t abuse my station here. None of us on the force did. Upholding Ordinary’s laws meant none of us were above those laws. We followed the rules—all of them, both supernatural and human.
“Theft is still a crime,” I said. “So… maybe you want to just tell the truth here.”
“Storage units.”
I took a drink of the coffee. It was good. Rich. “Whose storage?”
“No one’s.” At my look, he shook his head. “Abandoned. People move out of this town, you know. They stop paying storage bills then their units go up for sale. I’m surprised you didn’t know that’s how it worked. They made a whole TV show about it once.”
Jean snorted, even though her mouth was stuffed with brownie. “Fake TV show,” she mumbled.
“Totally staged,” he agreed. “But all this?” He raised his hands like a king displaying his land. “All of it purchased by me—legally,” he added. “Wanna look around? Maybe you’ll find something to remove that stick out of your—”
“—asshole!” A teen laughed.
Crow’s eyebrows rose, and he pointed over his shoulder at the kid, Keith, a werewolf.
He and the shapeshifter, Fernando, were around the same age. Fernando held a big, old hourglass up and away from the werewolf’s reach.
“I saw it first,” Fernando said. “But for the low, low price of three hundred dollars, I might be willing to part with it.”
Keith crossed his arms and scowled but could only hold it for a second before he smiled. “The sticker says ten bucks, doofus.” He shoved his friend.
Fernando lowered the hourglass. Once again, I thought I saw a glitter of gold, but it was gone so quickly, I was left blinking my eyes and wondering if it was just eyestrain.
“Toss me five,” Fernando said. “We can use it for game night.”
“Deal.” Keith dug in his back pocket for his wallet, and the two boys moved on to the next table, laughing about a collection of busted plastic lightsabers.
“All right,” I said. “So all this is legally yours.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all this time. Glad you finally caught up.”
Jean had finished the brownie. She wadded the napkin and stuck it in her coat pocket. “What about the traffic light?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Did you steal it?” I asked.
He threw his hands up. “Why would I want a traffic light? They’re kind of hard to sell and heavy as hell, which means no one would want to pay shipping for it.”
That was true. “Then you won’t mind us looking around for a few minutes?” I asked.
“Knock yourself out. Buy something pretty for your boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” I corrected.
“When’s that wedding, again?”
“We haven’t set a date.”
“Too bad you don’t have time for a little vacation. Sounds like a planning session is in order. But don’t let me give you any wild ideas.” He winked, then headed over to the counter where he had an old-fashioned cash register and a very modern card reader set up to handle the purchases. The two record ladies were already in line, and the hourglass boys were right behind them.
Jean and I stood there a minute studying the crowd and the piles of junk.
“So,” she said.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I can guess.”
“It could be anything.”
“All right,” I said. “Surprise me.”
“You were supposed to go on vacation today. You and Ryder. What happened?”
I glanced at the vampire in the corner who was studying a gold pocket watch through the jewelry loupe at his eye.
“He’s been leaving brochures everywhere,” I said.
“Ryder?”
I nodded and walked the perimeter of the place. “Tropical beaches, mountain cabins, cities, canyons.”
“You got in a fight over vacation brochures?”
“No.”
She picked up an old eggbeater. Waited.
“It’s just that he’s been planting them everywhere!”
“Here we go,” she muttered, turning the crank and making the beaters spin.
“I keep telling him yes, but stuff keeps coming up. So we’ve had to cancel. A lot. The fees are starting to add up.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to get out of town.”
“Of course not.”
She spun the beaters in the air, and the wind outside heaved the whale sides, sucking the tenting in, and blowing it way out. Rain clattered again, driving hard.
“I have a lot on my plate,” I said, but even as the words were out of my mouth, I knew they were a lie. Or at least an avoidance.
I did want to leave town. Desperately. The idea of a vacation with my fiancé was… well, it was wonderful.
But a little part of me, just a tiny slice of my heart, was frozen, stuck here, worried what would happen to the town if I were gone.
When our father had died, just a few years ago, I’d stepped into his place as the Bridge and Chief of Police all in one go. A lot had happened since then. I’d been shot, lost my soul, regained it, been attacked by demons, killed by an ancient evil.
I’d fallen in love with the boy I’d adored growing up. The boy I’d had a crush on. The man who’d returned to his childhood town.
Ryder Bailey.
It was easy to want to go away with him.
It was impossible to find a break in the constant troubles in this town. Every time I thought I could grab a full twenty-four hours, or maybe stretch it to a three-day weekend, something blew up.
Literally.
“You know,” Jean said, “a new horizon would be really good for you. You’ve been through a lot in the last… well, years.”
“It hasn’t been—”
“—and so has Ryder.” She tossed the eggbeater back on a pile of kitchen utensils and small animal statues, then caught my gaze. “Both of you need time together.”
“We have lots of time together. We live together.”
“Time alone. Out of town. Away from your jobs.” She planted her hands on her hips and that Reed stubbornness set her stance.