Aldrun’s jaw tightened, and Lucky tilted his head. Aldrun clearly didn’t believe him, which was weird because it was the most obvious explanation.
“What doyouthink happened to them?” he prodded, exchanging glances with Piers.
Aldrun’s eyes darted to the left. “I have no idea,” he said. “I just need to make sure two armed individuals aren’t running around the island and that your Gestalt didn’t dump them in the middle of the Atlantic, either!”
“In October?” Piers said, mildly offended. “He’s not that kind of magician!”
“And what kind of magician would that be?” Aldrun asked sourly.
“The kind who would drown two assholes in the middle of the ocean in hurricane season,” Lucky shot back. “And yes, I know they were assholes because they were assholes to him during the show. But seriously, I’d look back on the mainland for them. As far as I know, they left after the final bow.”
Aldrun took a step forward. “He’s right there,” he said, cajoling. “Why can’t I ask him myself?”
“He’s tired,” Lucky said, not hating this guy but not wanting Scout to talk to him either. As unfocused as Scout seemed to get when he was tired, having him talk to any sort of authority seemed like a bad idea. “He works two jobs. Can’t you wait until—” He heard the rustling in the bed behind him and the flapping of Scout’s bare feet on the tile.
“It’s fine,” Scout said through a yawn. “No worries. Come on in, Officer.” He yawned again, this one a doozy. Lucky thought he could probably count Scout’s teeth.
“No he can’t—” Lucky started, but Scout was a force of nature, as always.
“Don’t worry,” Scout said again, but this time his voice dropped tenderly, for Lucky alone, and he’d gotten close enough to put his hand in the small of Lucky’s back, which Lucky had to admit did it for him big-time. “Come on in, Officer Aldrun. Piers, thanks so much for answering the door. I had no idea how tired I’d gotten!” With the manners of a marquis, Scout ushered the man in. “Lucky, do we have anything to offer to drink?”
“Coffee,” Lucky said flatly. “Water.”
“I brought some sodas,” Piers said, smiling obsequiously. “They’re in the fridge.”
“That would be kind.”
Lucky saw the way Piers was looking at Officer Aldrun with curiosity in his eyes, and something a little warmer.
Oh. Hey. Wow—it must be going around.
With an unhappy glance at Scout, he allowed himself to be steered toward his own kitchen so he could root the refrigerator for the pitcher of ice water he kept on hand and two of the sodas Piers had apparently moved into his icebox when he wasn’t looking.
After serving everyone—Scout took the ice water—they all regarded each other over the island awkwardly, and then Scout broke the silence.
As only Scout could.
“So, you know the guys were armed, right? You could sense their weapons?”
Aldrun’s wide brown eyes grew even wider, and Piers blew out a breath.
“Of course!” Piers looked around the island counter. “Duh! He’s one of us.”
Aldrun glared. “I am not. Whoareyou?”
Scout gave him one of those dreamy smiles and waved his hand in a circle, then turned it palm up. “Cupcake?” he asked, and Lucky looked in surprise at the confectioner’s dream, big as a cabbage, that had appeared there.
On the top it had a big M.A. written in blue on the cloudlike frosting.
“Miller Aldrun,” Scout said. “That’s what you said, right?”
Aldrun took the cupcake warily, and then, to Lucky’s surprise, took a bite out of it, closing his eyes blissfully.
“How’d you know?” he asked with a mouth full of sugar and frosting.
“This? Lucky guess.” Scout winked. “But then, you’re in good company for lucky guesses. Speaking of which, you sense weapons, right? That’s why you knew those guys were armed?” he asked again. This time, disarmed by sugar frosting on a cupcake, Officer Aldrun nodded.
“Handy,” Lucky said, not relaxing his scowl. “Small beat, you know who’s armed—”
