I shrugged. “I figured word would’ve gotten around, but it helps to take you off the suspect list.”
He gave a low chuckle. “I’ve been out of town for a few days. But you don’t truly think I did it. Why are you talking to me, Danica Amana?”
I raised my eyebrows and he nodded toward my arm. “Even I’ve heard of the bounty hunter bonded to Samael himself.”
“What’s your real name?” I asked, curious.
He held out his hand. “David McKenna.”
“And you make blades?”
“I make anything with a sharp edge. My ‘Da was a smithy, and his ‘Da before him. Only unlike them, I occasionally partner with paranormals.”
I’d figured. “So you create weapons of power.”
Not just illegal, but stupid. If the wrong person picked up one of those weapons…
He shook his finger at me. “Now listen here, Missy. I only take commissions from those who have power themselves.”
I raised one eyebrow. “And I suppose Gary was going to wield a magical weapon in between serving customers and taking his kids to the park.”
A dull flush worked its way up his cheeks. “That was different,” he ground out. “I owed Gary a favor.”
“I’m not here to judge you, honestly. I just need to know why you were meeting with Gary. And if you know anyone who might’ve wanted Merrill dead.”
The waiter approached with his drink and David finished his whiskey and reached for his fresh glass.
“Gary wanted a few throwing knives. He’d been teaching his kids how to wield them, and one of them was hopeless at hitting the target.”
“So he thought an enchanted knife would help him.”
He nodded. “He figured it was a confidence thing. If the kid got used to hitting the target, his skill would naturally increase.”
“How much magic would it take to make one of these knives?”
He waved his hand. “He only wanted a small charm. I know a witch who occasionally works freelance with me. The trick is infusing the blade with power while it’s still being forged. Too much power and you’ll snap the blade.”
“How long would the charm last for?”
“A few months.”
I took a sip of water. This was a dead end. No one would’ve attacked Gary for a low-magic throwing knife.
“I wouldn’t have expected anyone to target old Gary,” David said. “He kept to himself, he did. Didn’t go sniffing around places where he shouldn’t.”
I raised one eyebrow. “And Merrill did?”
David snapped his mouth shut and I gave him a hard stare. “The man is dead. Anything you tell me could lead to whoever killed him.”
“My ‘Da had a saying… a gossip’s mouth is the devil’s postbag.”
“It’s not gossip if it could lead to a murderer.”
“I haven’t stayed alive all these years by poking my nose into other people’s business.”
I slid my gaze slowly down his body. “You’re carrying at least six knives— seven if you have one tucked in your boot. I’d bet that at least half of those knives are charmed. You can stay alive just fine.”
He gave me a wide grin. “I like you, girl. Okay, fine. Merrill had recently taken up with some of the more… morally destitute residents around here. I heard a rumor that he was in attendance at an auction he shouldn’t have gone near.”
