Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(21)

It had lasted two years, then Heimdall—or Heim, as he preferred to be called—had broken up with her.

Heim might be a quiet fisherman, but Lila Carson and her broken heart did not leave that relationship quietly. Furiously would be a better term.

Vengefully.

Great. Just what I needed in my town. A jilted ex-lover to a god.

“So we’re keeping eye on Margot and Lila,” I said.

“I’ll make sure Chris knows that Margot and Lila are sisters,” Myra said.

“Better go out now and tell him,” I said. “The easiest disaster to deal with is the one we can prevent.”

“Sure.” Myra shrugged into her jacket. “Oh, and Jean got a line on someone for temporary help. You okay with us hiring without your input?”

“Able body, listens to orders, not Dan Perkin, and it’s fine by me.”

I thought I caught an all-too-satisfied smile before she started toward the door. “Good. We’ll do paperwork, then introductions tonight at Jump Off’s around seven.”

“Why are we conducting a hire in a brewery?”

“Because you need to eat a decent meal, and the casual setting will make getting to know our new team member more pleasant.”

“Who put you in charge of office decisions?”

“You did. Just now.” She paused at the door. “As soon as you get that report done, go home and get some sleep.”

“Not my boss.”

She snorted. “Call it a strong suggestion from a coworker. Take a long lunch break, okay? Roy will call if something else blows up.”

Roy gave a quick two-finger salute, then went back to clicking the Rubik’s Cube.

I shook my head and watched her stroll out the door. Death, destruction, and a pile of paperwork. What a way to start the day. I took a drink of the coffee.

It went down bitter and thick, and I chuckled. If Myra and Jean really had roped someone into helping us out, I’d make them do my paperwork.

“Any idea who they have on the hook to hire?” I asked Roy as I settled in at my desk again.

“Nope.”

I was pretty sure he was lying.

“Any reason why you’re lying to your boss?”

This time he smiled, though he didn’t take his eyes away from the cube. “Yep.”

The phone rang, and he answered it. By the time he was done taking down the information about a car that had been sitting in the community garden parking lot for the last six days, a car that was either filled with brown clothes or clown clothes—I couldn’t quite catch the details—the coffee had done its trick and I was deep into my report, making headway.

~~~

I PARKED below my house. It was evening, just a little after six, and already getting dark.

Even in the warm enclosure of my car, I could hear the ocean, could hear the rain on the roof, the wind smoothing the tough, twisted coastal pines.

The day had just never let up, and I was utterly beat. I’d pulled together my report on the explosion and all the people I’d talked to, then had followed up on Odin’s complaint that Zeus had purposely trashed his favorite chainsaw when he’d borrowed it. After that, it was six phone calls from Dan Perkin, who wanted to know when I was arresting Chris Lagon. He’d called three more times since then, but I’d let them all go to voice mail.

Jean stumbled in late to take over the switchboard from Roy—wouldn’t game all day, my ass—and Roy cut out early because he had grandchildren coming to visit. It had been nonstop fires to put out all day.

I had an interview to conduct in less than an hour. In a bar.

How had I let Myra talk me into that?

I think it was the promise of a decent meal I didn’t have to cook.

What I wanted to do was sleep for about a day. But I needed to shower, change. Maybe do something with my hair.

At least Thanatos hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe he would tomorrow. Or better yet, maybe he’d come to town tonight while Jean was on duty. Good. Let her handle our newest vacationing deity.

All I had to handle was one new hire. And since Myra and Jean had already picked him or her out, I could just eat my burger and fries and pull the friendly-but-stern boss act.

Piece of cake.

I picked up Thanatos’s contract and got out of the Jeep. My very steep concrete stairway built into the hill might as well have been carved into the side of Mt. Everest. I slogged up the stairs.

The problem with being tired and distracted was that I didn’t notice that something was wrong with my house, something was different, until I was on my front step under the tiny porch roof that sheltered the worst of the rain.

I pulled my gun, suddenly very, very awake and alert.

One will fall echoed through my head. I thought about calling my sisters for backup. But this was my home, my family home. There hadn’t ever been anything that had happened here that I couldn’t deal with.

Plus, I had a gun, a badge, and any number of monsters and gods at my call, if needed.

I opened the door—unlocked—and stepped into the dark living room.

No lights on in the house. No streetlight below on the little gravel cul-de-sac.

A few steps into the living room and I spotted the backpack thrown on the floor next to the couch.

Robber? Why would a robber leave a backpack in the living room?

Transient? All the way up at the top of a hill several streets away from the main roads? Not likely.