Page 14 of Joker in the Pack

“It’ll be snapped up in no time,” the guy told us. “Last time it went on the market, someone rented it the same day.”

Really? Did that person have an olfactory problem?

Chicken Man grinned, revealing a row of brown teeth. “Just for you, I’ll throw in a ten percent discount downstairs.”

Vomit rose in my throat as I ran from the room and down the dodgy stairs. Air. I needed air. Maddie followed more sedately and met me on the pavement.

“I told him you ate some bad sushi last night. That was a no, I take it?”

“More than a no. Anabsolutely no way. How could you stay in there a second longer?”

“Oh, I’ve smelled far worse things than that at the hospital. One time this guy with a bowel problem came in, and—”

I held up a hand. “Please. Just don’t. Can we get out of here?”

“It’s like that Arnie movie—The Running Man. You’ve seen that, right? Where people have to escape from the game zone without dying.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry. Let’s find a bus. And look on the bright side—the next place can’t be any worse.”

CHAPTER 6

A QUICK BUS ride took us to our second destination—one of the house shares. “Modern accommodation within easy walking distance of public transport and local shops,” according to the blurb. Thank goodness there were no fast-food outlets within sniffing distance, and the outside of the property looked just as it did in the advert, if not a little close to a road junction.

At Maddie’s knock, a guy with dreadlocks opened the door and greeted us with a toothy grin. Light glinted off his gold incisor.

“You here about the room?”

“Yes, we are,” I said.

He swung the door open wider to allow us in. “I’ll show you around. Do you like music?”

“I enjoy Beethoven. And nothing beats Mozart being played by a full orchestra.”

His eyebrow ring tilted to the side as he frowned. “How about rock?”

We stopped short in the lounge. Or what had once been a lounge, but now seemed to be…a recording studio?

“Um, I’ve never been a big fan of rock, no.”

Not that I’d really listened to that type of music. Mother never allowed it, and Edward had looked at me like I was crazy when I played a Coldplay CD. Rock, especially the heavy stuff? Way, way outside of his comfort zone.

Dreadlock Guy waved at the array of speakers. “Don’t worry. We rarely play all night. Usually, we quit at two or three in the morning. The last guy who rented the room reckoned he could barely hear us with his earplugs in.”

Maddie caught my eye and gave her head a shake. Yep, I was with her on that one.

“Uh, I’ve got a problem with my ear canals. I can’t wear earplugs.”

“Aw, bummer.”

“Yes, isn’t it? Well, thanks for your time.”

I smiled and waved as we backed out, and the guy seemed genuinely disappointed. Hard Rock House was better than Chicken Castle, but only marginally.

“I couldn’t cope with that noise,” I said to Maddie. “Not when I work from home.”

“I was more concerned about the stink of marijuana.”

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