“Ah. Well, maybe something smaller.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove us back toward my apartment. “It was just a thought.”
It was possible that Horst really hadn’t considered the size of the inflatables versus my parking lot. But that brief tune he’d played before we entered the building made me certain he had an ulterior motive for taking me there.
Because the music had been really loud.
Loud enough to be heard down by the pawn shop.
Forkoboldsto hear down by the pawn shop.
“Did you break into that pawn shop tonight?” I asked.
He slanted me a surprised look. “I was with you the whole time.” He lowered his voice to “sexy growl” territory. “You know what we were busy doing.”
“I...” An image of exactly what we’d been doing rose up in my mind and I had to take a couple deep breaths to clear my head. “You know what I mean.”
“This is how little you trust me, huh? I break into your café...” He glanced over. “How many times was it?”
“At least twice.”
“See? Just two times, and the next thing I know, you’re accusing me of being a one-man crime wave.”
“I notice you’re not denying it.”
There was tension in his arms, which practically vibrated as he held the steering wheel. Finally, he relaxed. “Fine. It’s possible some of my kobolds may have attempted to gain entry to the pawn shop. I told you—I’m always looking for magical objects, and sometimes that means tip-toeing across the line of what’s generally considered legal.”
So the whole evening was planned not around the princess castle, but around the pawn shop. “Why bring me along at all, then?”
We stopped at a red light, and he turned his head to look at me, his smile almost sad. “Didn’t you have a good time?”
“I did, but—”
“Then maybe just accept the night for what it was. We both enjoyed ourselves. No one has to get bailed out of jail. A successful night all around.”
The light turned green, and he turned his attention back to the road. “I know something’s going on with you,” I finally said. “I wish you would tell me what.”
He was quiet for a long, long time. Then, finally, he said, “I don’t know why you think that. But if there was something I wasn’t telling you, it would be for a good reason.”
When we got back to the café, Horst said he was too tired to come in, which certainly could have been true. But it also could have been an excuse.
After I let myself into my apartment, I slumped down on the couch, stroking Pancake slowly as I thought about how cagey Horst had gotten at the end of the night. Then I thought about what Roger had said the other day.
Friends do things for each other.
I wanted to be able to help Horst, if only he would let me. But he wouldn’t even tell me what was going on.
I froze, my hand on Pancake’s back mid-stroke.
I didn’t know exactly why Horst was looking for something, but I knew what he was looking for.
And what’s more, I had an idea of where I might be able to find it.
It was late, but witchy antique shops keep very late hours. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts until I found what I was looking for. My old boss answered on the thirdring. “Bixley’s Antiques, Collectibles, and Oddities,” an ancient voice said.
“Bathsheba, it’s Glory O’Bryan.”
There was a pause, and then she croaked, “Well, young lady, it’s been a very long time since I’ve heard from you. I’m assuming you’re not just calling to find out if my gout went away.”
“Yes, I—”
