Page 60 of Fresh Old Bounties

I eyed the bathroom door warily.

Behind me, Ian chuckled deeply as he rummaged through the suitcase stashed by the desk.

I should be mad at his teasing, but the fact that he was teasing made me want to sing. A thawing Ian was a wonder to see, and I was glad he had something to concentrate on rather than the fact that his ex-partner and mentor hadn’t been the best of people.

Humming, I entered the—ghostless so far—bathroom and checked the items on the counter. The usual hotel freebies and a small black bag containing toothpaste, some first aid supplies, and a bottle of painkillers. A razor and a toothbrush rested in a glass by the sink.

Nothing suspicious under the counter or in the shower, either. I’d have checked the toilet cistern too, but it was one of those integrated inside the wall. Too bad. I’d have loved to awe Ian with my smart thinking.

I came out of the bathroom to find him checking under the mattress.

“Just the usual bathroom stuff,” I said. “You?”

“Just the usual repairman,” he said.

This man.

Walking up to him, I tapped his shoulder. “Ian.”

He turned to look at me. “Yes?”

I gave him a fast kiss. “You’re cute.”

His grin was heart-stopping. “So are you.” He returned the peck, then studied the room thoughtfully.

Copying his stance, I observed our surroundings. “I suppose it was too much to expect to find a notebook full of notes about his evil, dastardly deeds.”

“He probably keeps those on the phone.”

“You said it was a burner.”

“It might have enough.” His attention returned to me. “We’re going to have to let him go.”

I made a face. “I know.”

The law-abiding citizen in me cried in disappointment, but if we took the man to the bounty hunters, they’d investigate Grandma for the possibility of dark magic. It would destroy her reputation and put a spotlight on me and the shop. I couldn’t afford that, especially since I still had a listing in the dark marketplace and kept giving people fake dark magic they thought was real.

Bagley might be dead, but her legacy was proving hard to obliterate.

“I’ll warn some of my contacts,” Ian said. “They’ll keep an eye on him, in case he takes other similar jobs nearby.”

And that was as good as it was going to get.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“You tell me.”

I thought about it for a few moments, then the answer became obvious.

“Your ex-partner’s fake son.”

“Yes,” Ian said simply.

If Ian’s ex-partner’s file on Grandma was tied to the recent interest in the spellbook, what did that say about a stranger passing themselves as his ex-partner’s son and asking for anything he left behind?

“He might’ve wanted the file on Grandma—the timing is too coincidental. But how are we going to find him?”

Ian gave me a slow smile.

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