Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(45)

Maybe I could talk her into letting me judge the art or textiles. Something non-edible.

“Sure,” I said. “I’d be happy to help out.”

“Well, I don’t know…” Dan muttered.

Seriously, nothing satisfied this man.

“We could always ask Molly if she’d judge,” Ryder suggested. “She’s got a culinary school background.”

Molly was Chris’s waitress. Nice girl. I was sure Dan had hassled her when he’d been at Jump Off Jack’s, just like he hassled everyone else. She’d probably be happy to throw him under the rhubarb bus.

I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at Ryder to see if he was making up the culinary school thing. I hadn’t known she’d studied.

“Culinary school training is a very nice credential,” Bertie said.

“But she works for Chris Lagon!” Dan said.

“That’s right,” Ryder said, as if he’d forgotten. “Isn’t Grace Nordell a sommelier? She’s one of your neighbors, Dan.”

“Grace?” he said with even more disdain. “That busybody and snoop?”

“How about—” Ryder started.

“No,” Dan said. “I supposed Officer Reed is as good a choice as any.”

Jean took a breath that shook with suppressed laughter. I could see her shoulders trembling out of the corner of my eye, but her face was still and neutral.

“Excellent!” Bertie’s voice was a cheerful gavel nailing down the silence. She stood, walked around the desk, and plucked at Dan’s arm as if he were escorting her to a dance.

“I’m sure our very own police chief will be the most impartial of judges,” she said.

“I suppose,” he said. “But—”

She guided him out into the hallway and toward the door. “You don’t have any family entering into the contest, do you, Delaney dear?” she called over her shoulder. They were almost out of earshot.

“Nope.” I followed them. “Jean and Myra will be working crowd control and emergency response. Don’t have time to do anything more.”

“I’ll be sure to contact you with the judging schedule. I’m sure we can make it work with your other duties.”

“I’m sure we can,” I agreed, wishing there were a way out of this. I glanced back at Jean, who was still in the office. Her finger was pressed to the tip of her nose.

Brat.

Bertie tugged open the outer door and disengaged from Dan with the grace of a dancer. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Perkin. See you in a few days at the rally!”

She shut the door in his face. “There.” She dusted her palms together. “That should keep him for a while. Can I help you with something?”

“No, I needed to talk to Dan.”

“Oh.” She stared at the door distastefully. “Do you want me to invite him back in?”

“No need. I can talk to him outside.” I reached over for the door, and she placed the golden tips of her fingers on the back of my hand. Her fingers were warm and soft.

“You hired Ryder?”

I wondered how she’d heard about that already. Small town, big ears, I supposed.

“Temporarily. He doesn’t know about…everything.”

“If I can be of any help with what you’ve recently picked up, do let me know.” She was talking about the god power I’d need to offload onto some poor mortal in the next six days. Something I still hadn’t even started working on.

It was on my to-do list. Right up there in the top ten.

“I will.”

“Mr. Bailey,” Bertie chirped.

Ryder had sauntered up behind us, quiet and casual as a cat.

“Want me to come along while you talk to Dan?” he asked.

Jean lingered inside the office, a big grin on her face. She wasn’t going to help with Dan. “I don’t think—” I started.

“Mr. Bailey.” Bertie swooped down on Ryder’s arm with a bit more relish than she had Dan’s. “Could I have a brief word with you?”

Ryder threw me a questioning look, and I nodded.

“It will only take a moment,” Bertie cooed, taking him back to the office.

Valkyries. Couldn’t keep their hands off a hero. Ryder taking her side and shutting Dan up scored up there with Prometheus bringing the fire, though Prometheus insisted it had all been a big mistake, since he’d been drunk at the time and took a wrong turn.

I slipped outside. I wasn’t going to ask Dan any questions Ryder couldn’t hear. But in case I needed to press the supernatural angle, I didn’t want to worry about what Ryder would think.

Dan sat in his car, windows up, looking furious and talking to himself.

Which was to say: normal.

I walked around the front of his car and knocked on the driver’s-side window.

He jerked and glared.

“Can we talk?” I asked through the glass.

His eyes darted to the right and left. He looked so nervous, I was about to stand back up and double-check that I didn’t have an axe murderer looming behind me. My eyes strayed to the handgun he had holstered under his console.

Finally, he rolled down the window. “I have a license to carry,” he said.

“I know that, Dan.”