Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(47)

“I’m not convinced Chris killed anyone, Mr. Perkin. This is a very…thorough picture you’re painting. How do you suppose it all ended?”

“Bang!” He pointed his finger at me, and I resisted the urge to reach out and break it.

“Chris is a low-life coward and shoots Heim right in the back. Then he…he swims back to shore—you know how he’s always swimming. Says it’s good for the heart. Like he has one. I swear he’s part fish, the freak.”

The freak was, actually, kind of part fish. I decided to steer the conversation away from that truth.

“He’s a good swimmer. A skill that would have saved Heim.”

“Is that…is that how he died?” His eyes darted to everything but my eyes. “Drowned?” He sounded worried. It was the first time I’d heard him worry about someone else. I tried out the idea of Heim and Dan having a friendship.

Nope. Couldn’t picture it.

“I don’t have the report back yet.” It wasn’t a lie.

He rubbed his fingers over the bill of his hat three times, and then three times again. “Well, if it was drowning, you’d think a captain of a boat would know how to swim. Wouldn’t you? Anyone who spends their life on a boat should swim. Hell, I swim, and it’s been years since I’ve been on a boat. Back in my Navy days. When a man’s word meant something.”

“All right,” I said. “That’s all an interesting story. But last I’d heard, he and Heim were pretty close friends.”

“Friends,” he spat. “That doesn’t mean anything when there’s an award on the line.”

“An award in a small festival in a small town? I don’t think anyone deserves to die for a blue ribbon, do you, Mr. Perkin?”

“It’s not the blue ribbon. It’s the pride.” He jutted out his chin. “Chris Lagon is prideful as sin.”

I heard footsteps approaching and glanced at the sidewalk.

Ryder.

My stomach filled with butterflies. There was something about the way he walked that drew my gaze. Hands tucked into his coat, stride fluid and easy, eyes flashing with a kind of intensity that set flecks of gold to glitter. Maybe it was his mouth, turned always at the corner as if barely containing a wry smile. Maybe it was the width of his shoulders, the thickness of his chest, all tapered down to lean hips and long legs.

Maybe it was everything, and me wanting to know it all better.

I only took a second to size Ryder up before I turned my gaze back to Dan.

I could feel Ryder’s eyes on me, and had a moment to wonder what he saw. I was bent forward, my butt sticking out, my hips shifted on one bent knee, so I could lean far enough down to talk to Dan through the car window.

I’d traded my jeans for my uniform slacks today, though my plaid button-down shirt tucked into my slacks wasn’t regulation. The slacks weren’t much for figure flattery, and frankly, neither was my shirt.

“Did you hear Chris and Heim argue?”

Dan frowned. Looked angry that nothing came to mind. “Lots of people hate each other quietly. For years. Plan their revenge. Quiet is best for revenge. Lots of people know that.”

That wasn’t creepy.

“One last thing, Mr. Perkin. I’d like you to put together a list of people who you think would want you harmed. People who would want to blow up your property.”

“It’s a short list. Chris Lagon.”

“No one else? No one at all?”

“Nope. That’s it. He’s your man. Find him, and you’ll find your killer and your bomber. I promise you that, officer.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you for your time.”

“Bring Chris Lagon to justice,” Dan said. “For the good of Ordinary.”

“I’ll do my job, Mr. Perkin. Don’t you worry about that.”

I patted the doorframe and moved back. He started his car and drove away. He checked the rearview mirror an awful lot, his hand reaching up to stroke the bill of the hat again. Nervous about what I was going to do with that information, or maybe he had just developed a new paranoia since the explosion.

Not that I would blame him.

My gut said something was going on with him. Although he’d done nothing but talk, there was more he wasn’t saying. More he didn’t want me to know.

Who did Dan Perkin have to protect in this? Who did he even care about enough to protect? What wouldn’t he want me to know?

“Any breakthroughs?” Ryder asked.

“Dan doesn’t like Chris. Newsflash.”

He grinned, and I smiled right back. The world just took on a lot more sunshine when he smiled.

“So about last night,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

“I was thinking maybe we could try that again tonight. The dinner part. My place?”

There was no reason for me not to—other than a killer I needed to track down and a power I needed to give to some poor, unsuspecting mortal. Somewhere in the middle of all that I should have time for a life—my life—right?

Not really. If I failed to give the power over to someone, the power would kill me, injure my sisters, then turn on the town. Flirting over breadsticks while trying to outrun a ticking time bomb wasn’t the kind of multitasking I was made for.

Or was it? Dad had loved Mom through the years of carrying the bridge responsibility. He’d handled several power handovers and never missed one of our dance lessons or volleyball games. When he’d remarried, he’d had the time to love Kirali too.