Flynn eased up to my side. “What’s going on here?”
“I’m turned around,” Crush grumbled. “That’s what’s going on. Some asshole with a tow truck impounded my bike for parking bullshit. Do you know where the auto pound is on Foxtrail Avenue? This lady says it’s five blocks up the road.” Crush pulled a bandana out of his back pocket and wiped his neck. “They close in thirty minutes, and if I don’t get my bike back, heads are gonna roll.”
If there was one thing that my father excelled at, it was pitching a fit.
“She’s right,” Flynn agreed. “Go all the way up until you see McDonald’s on the right. That’s Foxtrail. Take a left and the impound lot is across the street on the right.”
“’Preciate it. Son of a—”
Crush went jogging in the direction we steered him, and seeing him run was a sight to behold. My father probably hadn’t run faster than a light jog in twenty years. I would have broken out in laughter had it not been for Flynn clutching my arm and leading us on.
“Humans are helpless creatures,” he said. “I’m so glad I’m not one of them anymore.”
“Did you get everything cleaned off?” I asked, noticing how wet his shirt was.
“Bloody hell. I’ve never seen so much bird droppings in all my life. If you see that pterodactyl, take cover.”
The adrenaline from running into my father was finally wearing off, but now I was paranoid about the necklace. Would Flynn notice?
I turned up the sidewalk. “How did it go with the cleaners?”
Flynn fell into step beside me. “Nothing to fret about.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Just remember, ’twastn’t a favor. Consider it a transaction. I scratch your back and you scratch mine.”
When we reached our destination, I turned in a circle. Not to get a look at the park across the street or the bicyclists zooming by, but to provide Wyatt a detailed panorama of my surroundings. The building itself was unremarkable. The first floor didn’t have windows, but the second level had arched ones like in an old church. Two buildings flanked it, and there weren’t any pedestrians. Flynn led me through the revolving door, and we entered a lobby with marble floors. The paintings and statues gave off a museum vibe, but there weren’t any visitors.
Flynn approached the front desk. “I have Robin White for an appointment.”
The man sitting at the desk gave him a look of derision, and it was obvious they knew each other. “Keep your mitts off the art this time.”
I observed the nameplate on the security desk. Murphy had a stone-cold look like a beat cop with too many years on the streets, now forced to greet visitors and push papers.
Flynn turned on his heel while Murphy made a call. “We’re not on speaking terms anymore. Break one statue and it’s World War III. Bloody hell, what’s the point of putting art on display if you can’t touch it?”
“This is a museum?”
“Auction house.” He winked.
“Sounds legit.”
Five minutes later, a ding sounded by the elevator in the back. Before I saw anyone, I heard a man singing “I Can See Clearly Now” in perfect pitch. When he stepped into view, he didn’t look anything like Johnny Nash. His sharp grey suit and black shoes alluded to his wealth, and he must have had them custom made because the man was a dwarf.
The singing diminished to a whistle as he walked briskly toward us. He had a kingly walk, as if he were expecting someone to throw rose petals at his feet. When he flared, my eyebrows popped up. I’d never seen a Mage of his stature. For centuries or longer, men were selected as soldiers. But times had changed, and newer candidates had more to offer, which made me uneasy.
“I’ve got a new one for you, sir,” Flynn announced. “This one is worth her weight in gold.”
The man stopped in front of me and forced a smile. “Well? Are you going to introduce us or stand there like a fool?” he said to Flynn, never taking his eyes from mine.
Flynn cleared his throat. “This is Robin White. Robin, this is—”
“Pablo Leonardo Russo.” Pablo inclined his head. “You may go, Mr. Washington. I’ll escort the lady from here.”
Flynn rocked on his heels. “And my money?”
Pablo flicked a glance at Flynn and spoke through clenched teeth. “You’ll know by tonight what my decision is. Either go to work or buy yourself a decent wardrobe with the money I’ve already paid you.”
