Page 74 of Fresh Old Bounties

Maybe there was little to do because there was nothing to discover.

The truth was, good magic didn’t put you in a hitman’s file. Didn’t make you a robber’s target.

How depressing.

Sensing my mood, Fluffy whined from the archway, and I went over to give her some pets, then brought her back upstairs. Rufus stood at attention at the top of the stairs. Since it was still raining, the dogs were confined inside, but it had felt cruel to close the door on them.

Fluffy brought me her favorite current toy—a knotted up old T-shirt—and I bent to grab it so I could throw it for her.

Instead, Fluffy dodged my hand and swirled hard, letting go of the T-shirt at the same time. It flopped to the floor a few inches away from her, but from the way she looked at me, all expectant tongue lolling, you’d think she’d just broken the world’s hammer throwing record.

“Maybe you have,” I told her. “Maybe you’re the best T-shirt thrower in the world.”

She went to the T-shirt, then back to me, tail wagging madly.

“You want me to fetch the T-shirt for you? Is that it? Are you trying to cheer me up, Fluffy?” I blinked furiously and hugged her close. This dog was going to be the death of me.

Rufus let out a low woof from his position by the steps.

“You’re the best too, Rufus.”

He was content with this and dropped his head onto his paws. After making sure their bowls were full, I returned downstairs feeling quite energized.

Fluffy was right. Just because things appeared obvious, it didn’t mean they were the truth.

Just because what I’d done so far appeared to not be much, it didn’t mean it wouldn’t have far-reaching consequences.

Work smarter, not harder.

With that, another idea occurred to me. Grandma hadn’t had social media accounts, but her friend might now. A search for both names and Grandma’s town returned several pages of hits, but I wouldn’t let the number defeat me.

For the next couple of hours, I checked the results between customers.

At about midmorning, a clap of thunder startled me. It was still raining and gloomy, but other than the day he dumped Key on me, Brimstone and Destruction wasn’t known for being a morning person.

Luckily, it was during a lull in customers, so I flipped the sign and scurried to the back. The steady rain drenched me immediately, and I hurried to open the back gate.

Brimstone and Destruction stood under a giant black umbrella lined with black lace.

“Witch,” he intoned.

“You’re early,” I accused. “I could’ve had customers.”

“I have an appointment tonight.”

And my customers were apparently not his problem.

Nothing to do but let him inside. Like a vampire.

He walked in after me and stopped at the sight of Fluffy and Rufus peering from the stairs.

“Dogs,” he said.

“Dogs,” I agreed. I pointed toward the kitchen. “In there.”

He eyed the animals warily and slid into the kitchen, putting as much space as possible between himself and humanity’s best friends.

Was Brimstone and Destruction, fire mage of Olmeda and well-known among the criminal class, scared of dogs?

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