“But you will, huh? For your murder board.”
“It is an… interest board.”
“Sure, sweetheart, sure.”
“I guess I should get you your money now,” I said as I made my way back out of my makeshift kitchenette.
He followed me back out front, where we found two older ladies eyeing a collection of little angel figurines.
The cash was in a brown bag in a drawer behind the counter.
“Here you go.”
“Do I need to count it?”
“You think someone who studies the mob would stiff them?”
“Fair enough,” he agreed, shoving the cash into his breast pocket. “Thanks for the coffee.” He took a long sip before setting it down. “And the offer for a sneak peek at your serial killer board.”
With that, he shot me a smirk and headed to the door.
“I’ll see you next week, Alara.”
Suddenly, I was looking forward to it.
But in the meantime, I had a new entry to add to my board.
Christopher Costa.
Early forties.
Tall, dark, handsome.
Guardian to his niblings.
Takes his coffee black.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
CHAPTER FIVE
Alara
“Yeah, well, I’m not happy about it, either,” I told Tuna as he let out a deep sigh at the long stretch of sidewalk in front of us.
Whoever designed the pawnshop was an asshole.
Because the pawnshop was also my home. There was a whole halfway adequate living quarters upstairs. The problem? There was no interior access to the pawnshop. Not only that, but the exterior access was from the back. And it was only accessible from the next street back through this creepy-ass narrow alleyway. It meant there was no stumbling out of bed and rolling down the stairs to work. Nope, Tuna and I had to squeeze down the alley, then walk up one block, around, and back down the next to get to the pawnshop.
I figured it was the universe’s way of ensuring that I got a little exercise on the daily. Sure, on cleaning days, I was on the move and getting sweaty, but the average day at the shop was pretty sedentary. And Tuna? Tuna slept about twenty-three hours a day. So he needed the activity too.
It wasn’t usually something I grumbled about.
But the sky had opened up and been pelting the city with rain. I’d stood at the window, hoping it would let up, but it was showing no end in sight.
So Tuna had on his raincoat.
And I had a hood up, since the alley was too narrow for an umbrella.
