Page 39 of A Seer and Present Danger

Shelly (Really into murder, but probably only fictional murder.)

The only people I could talk to before my shift were Kenny Stratton, Gail Malloy, and Jean. I’d talked to Jean yesterday. So that left Kenny and Gail.

I leaned my head back and pet Smuckles, letting her familiar, steady purr soothe me.

“Kenny’s probably at his pawn and repair shop. I’m sure the police already tracked him down and grilled him.”

More purring, no comments. Smuck made a wonderful lap warmer and a terrible Watson.

Well, sitting here wasn’t going to get me any closer to answers.

Talk to Kenny it was.

“All right, princess, time to switch up your napping station. You get the whole chair all to yourself.” I carefully shifted, picking her up and placing her down in the warmth left behind.

She stretched paws over her head, then curled back into a crescent. I swear she hadn’t even woken up.

I drank the rest of my coffee while I put on shoes, grabbed my purse, and slid into my jacket.

The thing that always surprised me about Ordinary was how, well, ordinary, it looked. Sure, it was a small beach town on the rainy edge of Oregon, but there were a lot of small beach towns that dotted the coast.

I’d been to most of them over the years.

I loved living near the water. My love of the sea might have something to do with my father, Poseidon. Yeah, god of the ocean. I’d never met him—my father. The current Poseidon was a different person.

Gods can be killed while living in Ordinary. It was something that wasn’t talked about much, but someone, probably Jules, had told me the last Poseidon (also not my father) had been killed before I’d come to Ordinary.

The new Poseidon was handsome and for a hot second, I’d been drawn to him. But then the whole “this guy is holding power my father held” threw a real wet blanket on the attraction.

The drive to Kenny’s shop, Wires and Widgets, didn’t take long because unless it was summer (tourist season) or Bertie had a festival going on (usually weekends) it didn’t take time to drive anywhere in Ordinary.

The windows of the beige, square, one-story building were decorated with handwritten signs that had once been bright but were faded and torn. Most of them had the words: Discount, Sale , Cash Now.

The other decorations were several old teddy bears—the kind that had tape recorders in them so they talked—a variety of printers, transistor radios, a guitar, some kind of sparkly jewelry box, and a tablet.

I opened the door, which didn’t need a bell because it creaked like a Halloween sound effect, and stepped in.

The air was warm and stale inside and smelled like the carpet had flooded a while ago and never quite dried out.

Wood shelves lined the space, loaded with items traded in for cash or bartered for something Kenny had on hand.

The counter was lit from below and jewelry sparkled beneath glass. Behind the counter was an open door, through which I could see a repair space with a couple vacuum cleaners, a microwave, and a computer with tools and parts next to it.

Oh, and there was Kenny, glaring at me from the far corner of the room where he was stuffing the wires of one of those teddy bears back into its belly.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked.

It was always weird when people didn’t recognize me out of uniform, but it told me something, didn’t it? It told me they only saw me as a service, not as a person.

“Yes, I’m, uh…” (This was where coming up with a cover story would have been a good idea.) “I’m here about the toy drive, Boast of the Coast. We’re collecting donations for children in need. Are there any items or services you would like to donate? We’ll list you in the newspapers of the three towns that are participating, so you’ll get free advertising.”

“Free? You mean after I ‘donate’ my valuable stock?” (Yes, I could hear the sarcasm quotes.)

“Exactly!” I said pouring on the cheer. “Even one item helps.”

He squinted. “You look familiar. Where have I seen you?”

“I waitress at the Blue Owl.”