“Well, it’s pretty horrifying you’re drinking water instead of one of Jump Off’s award-winning beers.”
He chuckled. “Beer later. I don’t drink and film. Can’t you let us in on a grim, gruesome murder? Please?”
I shrugged. “We’re a small town. We have, statistically, the same kind of crimes as any other small town.”
“Murder?”
“It has happened. It isn’t common.”
“Was it grim and gruesome?”
“No, someone was angry and someone died. That’s horrible and sad.”
He frowned, did something with the camera, then brightened, like this was take two.
“How about a weird crime? Something really out there.”
“Weird?” Oh, the tales I could tell. But I wasn’t going to blow Ordinary’s cover for this guy. “Well, someone blew up a neighbor’s rhubarb patch once.”
“That’s…uh…What kind of explosives?”
“Dynamite. We stick to the basics around here.”
He laughed. It was a contagious sort of sound, one that made me feel more relaxed. It made a lot of people in the room lean toward him a bit too.
He was obviously magical. Very magical. He radiated it like the sun radiated heat.
I was naturally immune to most magics. It came from being the Bridge for god power entering into and exiting out of Ordinary. So if I could feel the pull of the guy, I could only imagine how much more irresistible he would be to other people.
“Nothing weirder? No severed heads? No alien sightings? No vampires and werewolves duking it out?”
“You telling him all our secrets?” Chris asked, as he stopped at the table with a burger for me and a double order of fish and chips for Odin.
“Well, not all of them.” I moved back so he could more easily drop our food in front of each of us. He slid a small plate of tater tots and dipping sauce in front of Patrick.
“I know you said you weren’t hungry,” Chris said, “but Delaney and Odin stab people who steal their tots. On the house.”
“Must be my lucky day.” He waggled his eyebrows at the camera. Odin, Chris, and I all held our breath.
But he didn’t say anything more, like:I am a leprechaun, and I know I have magic and luck.
“Anything else?” Chris asked to the table at large.
“I’m good,” I said, as I dipped a tot in ketchup and stuffed it in my mouth.
Odin finished off his beer. “Another stout.”
“You got it. Patrick?”
“All good.”
Something large and metal landed hard in the kitchen, the clatter enough to stifle conversation for a second. Chris shook his head. “Excuse me. I gotta go check in on the new guy.”
“What’s it like to grow up here and become the chief of police at such a young age?” Patrick went on like we hadn’t been interrupted. “What’s it like to have your sisters on the force?”
“I like living in a small town,” I said. “I had a pretty normal childhood, school, friends, sports. Trained for law enforcement young because I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I’m very lucky that I get to do just that.”
“You worked for it,” Odin put in. “Don’t let her fool you, she didn’t just stroll into the job. It takes a lot to be the police chief. She did her time. Learned the laws. Did the grunt work.”
