Bearly Hanging On (The Jamesburg Shifters #6)(15)

"Ugh, son of a bitch, here we go. You should quit while you're ahead." Izzy rolled her eyes and muttered, but from the sound of things, she'd been down this road at least once before.

"Uh well, I'll have you know," Erik said, putting his hand on his hip. "Everyone knows it's fake. It's no different than watching a long choreographed fight scene, or a dance, or a ballet, with a storyline behind it, and a lot of body slams and aerial leaps!"

"Yeah!" Norman said, getting visibly excited. "And oh my God, it was so awesome when Andre the Giant would come out and everyone got all nervous. And then there was that guy with the snake, and the—"

"What about the guy with the stringy, greasy mullet?" Jamie asked. "And boobs bigger than hers?" she pointed toward Izzy, who was well endowed at the least of times, but now, six months out from a wolf birth, was pretty damn impressive.

Erik and Norman exchanged a glance and both started shaking their heads. "Yeah? Which one?" Erik asked.

"The fact that you had to ask speaks more volumes than you can imagine," Jamie said with a wry grin. "Dusty Rhoads, for the record."

"Holy shit could he work a mic! American Dream, baby!" Erik began reciting the lyrics to the wrestler's entrance music, and before long Norman started in. And then, to the absolute amazement of everyone, when they stopped singing an a cappella rendition of the song, Jamie was still humming the tune.

They all turned to her, two faces beaming and a third ripe with disgust.

"I, uh, anyway," she said, a slight flush coloring her white cheeks underneath the face framing tendrils of hair that fell from her bun. "About those files, right? Hey, how about those files, Izzy?"

"I'm going to choose to play both the high road and the efficacious one here, and pretend I didn't just hear that or see that, or anything else."

Jamie nodded solemnly. "You're a good friend. I'd never live it down. I'd definitely lose my "too cool for school" card if everyone found out I know the tune to about fifty wrestler's entrance music."

Izzy shook her head as she opened one of the files she'd brought along. "Right, anyway, moving along. The problem with what's happening is that for whatever reason, the TVA wants to go through Jamesburg's books."

"There's a library down the road," Erik said, with a grin so smug it could have filled an empty milk jug labeled 'smugness goes here' and then crossed his arms over his chest. Norman went for a high five, but Erik shook his head almost imperceptibly before brushing his shaggy dark-blond hair back away from his face.

"There's a library down the road that hasn't had a budget in two years," Izzy fired back. "They don't even have the latest Nora Roberts books, much less the city's tax ledger, but good try, frat boy."

"Damn," Jamie said, mouth open. She extended her hand for a high five, which Izzy slapped, completely ignoring the two men who couldn't believe what they were watching. "I've heard burns before, but that one would have made Mark Twain proud." Then, turning to Erik, she said, "That's a literary joke. He was funny, Mark Twain. Did a lot of burns."

Erik narrowed his eyes. "I know, I read Frankenstein. I know exactly who he is."

Izzy exhaled heavily. "He's faking dumb. At least I hope he is," she said. "But we need to get down to business. These guys, Branson in particular, aren't looking for anything that will be easy to find. I'm not sure exactly what it is they are looking for, but—"

The door to Erik's office swung open, creaking as it did. "I'm looking for proof - anything, any sort of proof - that shows this town is allowed to exist."

Damn, he does look like Kyle McLachlan, Jamie thought. "Do you have a recorder you talk to? Does it have a girl's name?" She closed her eyes tight as soon as she spoke, irritated at herself for having actually spoken instead of just thought.

"No," he said plainly. "But if I did, her name would be Diane. Now, can we move on from the outdated television references?"

A hushed silence descended over the room, everyone looking back and forth, searching for something to say.

"Good," he said. "Now, what do you have there? Ledgers?"

Izzy handed the ancient looking tomes over. "Just budget ledgers. Going back to the 70s. I don't know how much use they'll be, but—"

"I'll decide that," Branson said, taking the leather bound books with a grin so smug it could rival Erik's. "Although I'm afraid I might catch some kind of spore-borne plague if I open this."

At that, Jamie blew a puff of air across the cover. The resultant dust cloud blew straight into the grim-looking Agent Branson’s face. He just smiled, seeming not to react at all, and said a quiet thank you. "And now, I'm going to need a place to stay," he said. "I'm going to be here a while, I think. If all your records are this annoying, it's going to take at least a year."

"Don't say things you don't mean," Izzy said.

For some reason, Jamie didn't feel as prickly about the new guy in town as everyone else. It might've been that he was able to successfully joust with her verbally, or it might've been that he really didn't seem that threatening, or being realistic, it could very well have been that Jamie's dry spell was bordering on legendary, and she hadn't seen Ryan since she dropped him... well, yeah, dropped him.