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Ryan pulled off his coat. When he looked at the coat rack and found about forty tote bags hanging off it, he grunted and threw his blazer onto the back of my sofa instead. “It’s not about bills,” he told me. “I need your skills for a job. I want other people to see that you have skills. I want you to not embarrass me and stop rifling through trash cans like a hungry raccoon. We have a big case coming up, and I need your nose.” He walked up to Zach and said ‘hello’, with his lips.
I ducked my head into the refrigerator and found a hard cider inside. When I came back out, snapping it open, I saw that Ryan and my brother were still kissing. Urgh.
“Whose case are you trying to put me on?” I asked, interrupting.
“Caspian Dagon,” Ryan announced, putting his arm around my brother and looking over at me.
I began to choke on my drink. Was he fucking nuts?
“Dagon? Sure! Why not?” I asked, leaning my back against the counter. “Scold me for being this dangerous investigator and then throw me to the skeeviest dude in the whole city the first chance you get.” Before either man could reply, I threw my hands into the air, waving them around wildly. “I mean, you’re saying it’s dangerous to peep through windows, but you don’t know what they say about him on the streets!”
“On the streets,” Ryan repeated in his ever-exhausted tone. “You’re not the Artful Dodger,” he reminded me wearily. “We’ve been over this. Besides, he’s just an art dealer. He’s not a mob-boss or anything.”
“Art dealers normally aren’t that shrouded in mystery, okay? He gives everyone the creeps!” I assured. “People disappear around that dude! There’re so many weird rumors about him, you have no idea! He’s in with not just the mafia, but the Luminati, and the reptile people and?—”
Zach gave me a firm look that I assumed meant I should get serious and stop embarrassing him. I knew the look well.
“Well, the mafia, at least,” I repeated with a grumble. “No matter what you say.”
“There’s no evidence that he’s with the mafia. He’s just a businessman,” Ryan assured me wearily.
“Shady. As. Fuck.” Still, I straightened and said, “Fine. What do you need from me?”
“My client is in the middle of a libel lawsuit with Dagon, and that guy’s throwing the book at him. We have to fight back, and you have that supernatural ability to find shit people don’t want you to find.”
“That’s not my power,” I reminded, hoisting myself up on my counter. “But okay.”
For the life of me, I had no idea why Ryan couldn’t understand that my superpower was finding specific things. If I was looking for something particular, no problem. Other than that, I would have to go hunt through garbage like anyone else.
Like right now, I had no idea what garbage on Dagon I was even looking for. I was just going to have to go in blind. Which was fine; it was the job.
It wasn’t like I could just get a job at a gem store like before. There was a watch list now for people like me. You know, people who tried to steal something too expensive and fucked it up. Honestly, I knew I was lucky that I wasn’t in jail. Going through trashcans was just penance.
“I think if you poke around, you’ll figure out what you’re looking for,” Ryan assured me with confidence. “And then you can go do your dog-with-a-bone thing.”
“It’s a gift and a curse,” I admitted, hiking my shoulders up nearly to my ears. I finally sighed. “I mean, how much does the job pay?”
“I’ll give you some commission on my retainer and a full-time starting salary at seventy-grand,” he told me, and Zach clapped his hands with enthusiasm.
“That’s amazing, babe!” Zach told him with a grateful snuggle.
I just groaned. “I don’t want a permanent job! I’m a free agent!”
Zach’s happy expression dropped as he looked at me. “Zazie…” He put his hands on his hips and used a tone like he was going to put me in time-out any second.
“I’m a free agent,” I assured crisply. “And I assume you want everything above-board. So let me think.” I stared up at the ceiling. “Twenty thou for three months of work, and that’s if I don’t find anything. Literally anything. Dagon’s got a bad rep. And if I do find anything, then it’s extra. I’ll adjust to what I find. The better it is, the more money.”
“Nobody can make deals this way, Zazie girl,” Ryan argued wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How the hell can I make a contract with that?”
“I don’t know.” I bounced my shoulders up and down. “It’s a handshake. You’re my brother-in-law; write it on the back of a napkin for all the fuck I care.” I waved my hand through the air, dismissing any of his concerns. “Beer?” I offered.
“Whiskey’s better,” Ryan replied, rolling his eyes.
“Only if you don’t mind backwash,” I warned, pointing to the bottle that was standing by itself, on top of my microwave, very far from where I kept the glasses.
There was a loud sigh, and Ryan and Zach exchanged a look that communicated their shared exasperation with me. I was so used to this look that it no longer had any sting.
“Beer will do,” Ryan grumbled.
