“I don’t want to strain your emergency line,” he said, “but I would love your number. For emergencies of a less dangerous sort.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t take time out of my duties to show you around. If you need help from law enforcement, call our non-emergency line, or 911. If you just want to know which of our restaurants has been in business the longest, I’m not the person you need to talk to.”
“All right,” he said. “I can take a hint.” His expression changed into something calculating. “Would you have coffee with me? Any time that works for you would work for me. I’d love to ask you a few questions about what the town was like when you were growing up here, and what it’s like now. That sort of life-in-a-small-town thing. People love that shit.”
“Are you going to video it?”
“Just a couple clips. I won’t have the camera running the whole time. It can be as professional or personal as you’d like.”
Bertie was giving me a look that said there would be consequences if I refused.
“Sure. I’ll let you know when I have time. Good luck with your project, Mr. Baum.”
He gave me a little quirk of the lips, like I’d just told a great joke. “Thank you.”
“And there you have it, Patrick,” Bertie said. “I’m sure Chief Reed will find a moment to speak with you later. Would you like to begin on your solo adventure now, or is there something I could provide you with?”
Bertie had the perfect blend of being friendly, but also being done with the whole thing, down pat.
“No, I’m good, I’m good. I’ll just see myself out.”
“Mr. Baum?” I called out.
He paused with his hand on the door.
“It’s not one of our most historic businesses, but we have the best bakery on the Oregon coast. Puffin Muffin. Just drive south and you can’t miss the line of people waiting for pastries. Hogan’s the owner. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll give you a donut on the house.”
“They also have an excellent tea selection,” Than noted.
Patrick grinned. “Why am I not surprised the cops know the best donut joint in town?”
I faked a laugh and waved like it was the first time I’d ever heard a joke about cops and donuts. “Drive safe.”
He gave me one last look, then finally walked out of the station.
The door shut on a wash of cooler air that mixed with the over-cooked coffee smell of the station. None of us said anything. Not until we heard an engine start and saw his car pull away.
“Interesting,” Than said, breaking the silence. “I assume you sent him there so Hogan will tell you what supernatural he might be?”
“Yep. It pays to have a Jinn with the ability to see true forms dating my sister.”
Bertie gave her head a choppy shake. “Patrick is much less tolerable than I’d prefer.”
“I’m curious why you’re tolerating him at all. That’s not like you, Bertie.”
“I tolerate people all the time, Delaney. But yes. He may have his uses. There is a contest, a contest certain small towns in Oregon have entered.”
“Small towns like Boring?”
“I believe it was mentioned.”
“And what is this contest?”
What was good enough that Bertie would let a schmoozer like Patrick work his own angle on our town without her keeping him under her thumb? “Did you really invite him here?”
“Yes. And it’s not because Robyn had him for three weeks. Three weeks, Delaney. I have no idea what he could have possibly found to do in Boring for three weeks. I checked the medical records to see if he may have slipped into a coma for two and a half of those weeks, but if he did, he didn’t report it.”
“Rude of him,” I said.
