Page 110 of Fresh Old Bounties

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

“What principle? You were trying to blackmail me.”

At that, he shot out of the chair. “Listen here, missy. I didn’t blackmail anyone. I offered you an early deal on the information.”

He had me there. “In any case, I think it’s still a good price to pay for remaining alive.”

His eyes gained a sharp gleam I didn’t trust. “The information is worth that much to you?”

“Remaining alive,” I repeated, enunciating clearly. “Besides, the spellbook doesn’t exist.”

“So?”

“So if you try to sell the information to someone else and they learn of this, you’ll be in trouble.”

“The trouble goes to the seller, not the broker.”

“Can’t be good for your reputation if rumors start spreading that you’re willfully selling fake information. I don’t believe for a moment only the seller will get blamed. You will too. People will start to wonder about the quality of your sellers.”

He made a face. “Very well. I will keep the information about your spellbook to myself.”

“Great! Now, what about Bagley’s accounts?”

His expression went blank. Too blank, too fast. “What about her accounts?”

“You were her accountant; you knew about her dark magic business. Where are her secret accounts?”

“I only deal with taxes.”

And you don’t pay taxes on ill-gotten earnings. Still, it made sense he’d know about them. He was probably as nosy as Bagley.

“Sure,” I said dryly. “Where are her secret accounts? How can I access them?”

He must’ve read the resolution on my face, or maybe he was tired of us standing in his kitchen and wanted us out so he could get started on lunch, but he capitulated fast. “I found one, but it was empty.”

“What do you mean?” My stomach growled, and a flush crept up my cheeks. “Empty? How’s that possible?”

“How would I know?” he grumbled, looking as dissatisfied as my stomach. “Either Bagley moved the money somewhere else, or someone got to it before me. She must’ve shared them with someone else.”

I shook my head. “Not Bagley.” Although Vicky could’ve learned about it. The thought gave me pause. If that was true, then I might as well kiss that money goodbye.

“All I know is that when I got to it, it had already been emptied. Now, if we’re done, get out.” He pointed imperially toward the open window.

“One more thing,” I said. “About my taxes…”

“Yes, I will do them,” he snapped. “Out!”

“At a discount?”

“If you want a discount, find someone else.” Glee filled his voice. “And good luck with that.”

I chose not to argue and snuck out through the window. Ian followed, and the window slammed down as soon as his fingers cleared the sill.

“What an annoying man,” I muttered as we walked back to his car.

Ian said nothing as we got inside, and we put on our seatbelts.

I waited for him to drive away, but he paused to make a call.

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