Page 39 of Deadly Avarice
It was my turn to stare. “That’s very insightful, Aurelia,” I said and meant every word.
“I can be insightful.” Aurelia’s tone was without inflection or a hint of humor. Taking a sip of the soup, Aurelia rolled the food around in her mouth before swallowing. She took a second sip and then a third before declaring, “It is acceptable, though not as good as some of the food Phil makes. Perhaps Peaches is correct.”
Franklin gave me a blank stare, so I explained, “Phil is a bonded home and hearth pixie. According to Peaches, he’s a whiz in the kitchen.”
“From what I understand, most home and hearth pixies are,” Franklin agreed.
Conversation was light, mostly revolving around the different types of pixies sharing our earth. Aurelia piped in with a comment here and there but mostly she remained quiet. She had a second helping of potato soup. Franklin and I did too. We also managed to demolish the French bread.
When she was finished, Aurelia scooped up the hamster ball, deposited said hamster in her backpack, and vanished. Surprisingly, she did thank me for the soup.
I was still staring at the space Aurelia had just disappeared from when I said, “She’s been here when I haven’t known it.”
Franklin was halfway to standing, empty bowl in hand. He stopped midmotion. “What, exactly, does that mean?”
I barked out a humorless laugh. “Beyond extremely unsettling and downright creepy?”
“Beyond that.”
“I have no idea.”
Franklin grunted as he cleared the table. “Do you think she’d stop if you asked her?”
“Again, no idea. How would I even know if she complied?”
“Fair point.” Franklin loaded the dishwasher and immediately rummaged through the cabinet, searching for a container to store the soup in. “This was excellent, by the way.”
I got up to help Franklin with clean up. “I don’t think it’s as good as I remember Grandma Boone’s being, but it wasn’t bad.”
“Go sit. You cooked. I can clean.” Franklin shooed me back to the table.
“And you worked all day.”
“And you didn’t?”
“Eh…” I waggled my hand back and forth. “I didn’t have a client today. I did get a text from Detective Cardoza. He managed to get the okay from his boss, and it looks like we’re also legally in the clear to bring Thomas Speedler’s soul back again. Detective Cardoza wants to set up a time later this week for me to meet with him. He’s trying to coordinate with Pablo.”
“The insurance investigator?”
“That’s him. When I get an exact date and time, I’ll contact Janet Meeker and see if that day also works out for her to bring back her granddaddy’s soul.”
“You’re going to accept the job?” Franklin asked as he started the dishwasher.
“I can’t find an exact reason not to. I’ve had plenty of clients who rub me the wrong way. It’ll be fine.” I wasn’t blowing smoke. At least half, and probably more, of my clients were somewhat unpleasant. I’d learned to deal with it over the years. “How was your day?” I asked when Franklin grabbed a beer fromthe fridge, pulled a kitchen chair closer to me, and heavily sat down. He’d placed a kiss on my temple before sitting and that spot sang with warmth.
After a heavy pull from his beer, Franklin sighed and said, “Interesting.”
“Are you sure about that?” Hisinterestinghad sounded more exhausting than exciting.
“I am, just not the kind of interesting I like.” With another sigh, Franklin filled me in on his conversation with Tenzen Huxley and Pops.
I sat there, patiently listening as my heartrate gradually increased. I didn’t know what shocked me more, the fact that Tenzen called Franklin or that Franklin’s response had been to call Pops. All that surprise was overshadowed hearing how Tenzen had referred to me. “He really called me a commodity?” That word made me sound like an object, not a sentient, living creature.
“He did. I’m not sure if it was a slip of the tongue, or—”
“Slip or not, it’s degrading,” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Agreed, and I told him exactly that.”
