Page 100 of Fresh Old Bounties

“Then the information will go into the market.”

Where anyone could buy it.

“How do I know you won’t sell it even if I pay?”

“You have my word.”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“I am Olmeda’s broker.”

“Did Johnathan Smithe give you this information?”

Silence met my question, and I checked the screen. The call had ended. As I stared at my phone, it vibrated with an incoming text. It listed an account and a money amount that made me inhale sharply. I’d never thought you could actually buy someone’s reputation, but Grandma’s apparently had a price tag on it.

“Who was that?” Ian asked.

“Olmeda’s broker. Do you know who they are?”

Ian rubbed his chin. “I know there are a couple of them.”

“What’s a broker exactly?”

“What it sounds like. They broker deals between paranormals.”

“Illegal?” Clearly, or they’d have given me a proper name. “Never mind. Do you know who they are?” I asked again.

“No.”

“How’s that possible? You knew Bagley was a dark witch. You must’ve done your research into the dark magical side of Olmeda.”

“There’s only so much people will tell a bounty hunter.”

“And you didn’t care as long as it didn’t affect you,” I finished for him, the reminder sour in my mouth. For all that Ian was willing to help me and be a good mentor to the strays, I had almost forgotten his see no evil, hear no evil stance where illegal paranormal matters were concerned. I had forgotten his unwillingness to meddle unless a bounty was involved.

Maybe because he had already meddled once with his ex-partner, and that one act of judgment and punishment had been more than enough to last a lifetime. The experience had likely taught him not to get involved in other people’s business.

I couldn’t fault him for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. It didn’t abate the frustration of knowing Ian could walk through life, happy to ignore the wrongs in the world.

“Are you sure you’ve never heard a hint of who it might be?” I asked.

“What did they want?”

“They said they have the information about Grandma’s spellbook and I have twelve hours to pay up or they’re selling it on the dark market.” A sudden thought made me catch my breath. “Do you think it’s not a broker but Mystery Man trying to get some money out of this, since they couldn’t get the spellbook itself?”

Ian gave the idea some thought. “Doubt it. I think it’s more likely the man sold the information to the broker to get some of the money they invested back and wash their hands of the whole affair.”

“Money they invested?”

“Thieves for hire aren’t cheap.”

“And the potions they used were powerful,” I murmured. Not cheap at all. I began pacing, trying to organize my thoughts. “So, Mystery Man, a.k.a. Johnathan Smithe”—because there was no doubt in my mind they were the same person—“learned about the spellbook bounty and your ex-partner’s role in it. First, he tries to see if he can get his files from you, assuming if your ex-partner got this job he might’ve gotten similar lucrative magical item bounties.”

“Yes.”

“At the same time, he tries to buy the spellbook. When that fails, he tries to steal it. When that also fails, maybe he tries to come for the spellbook himself and the dogs stop him, so he goes for the files and fails too. That would explain why he left your house for so late, risking us returning from the PBOA meeting early. He’s also smart enough to assume you’d track him down no matter what, now that he went and broke into your house, so he skips town before you can catch him.”

“Can’t always count on the bad guys to be idiots,” Ian said, sounding like most of the criminals he’d apprehended during his bounty hunter career fell on that side of the equation.

---