He nods. “I’ll hurry off and reunite her with her son.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I say, “I’ve got a paleontologist to watch.”
“We might need your statement, Sammy. Everyone here saw you with that punk.”
“Pretty sure no one remembers I was here.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I summon the single flame. “Toodles, Detective.”
“Right, um... toodles.”
Chapter Ten
I reappear in my living room just as the sun slips behind my next door neighbor’s trees, casting amber fire across our quiet cul-de-sac.
For a moment, I just stand there, staring out the living room window, letting the colors wash over me, along with the hush of a house at rest. My laptop is open on the kitchen table.
A bedroom door creaks open, followed by soft footfalls. Tammy walks in, licking a Popsicle.
“Did you wrap up that murder case?” she asks between licks.
“Yeah. The son was protecting his mom. Good kid.” I glance at her Popsicle. “Grape?”
“Duh. Like there’s any other flavor. And yes, I would totally cover for you, too.”
“You’re a good kid. Not that I plan on doing anything you’d need to cover me for.”
“But I would. If you ever needed me to.”
“You’re being awfully sweet. What do you want?”
“Nothing... yet.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Ominous is kind of our family thing.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup. So, what are you doing now?”
“Trying to decide how best to keep watch on a wizard-in-training without him knowing I’m watching him.”
“See?”
“See, what?”
“Ominous,” she says with a spooky voice.
***
At just past six p.m., I’ve decided on what to do and make a quick trip to Huntington Beach, where I head to a tiny spystore tucked between a vape shop and a nail salon; it’s the kind of place that sells everything from hidden nanny cameras to lock picks. I make the drive rather than teleport because driving relaxes me, and confronting that demon had put me on edge. At the spy shop, I pick up a discreet wireless camera with night vision and a long-range feed. It’s perfect for what I need.
Back home again and standing in my bedroom, I take a steadying breath, close my eyes, and summon the single flame. In it, I see the neighbor’s garage; in particular, the dusty treadmill, the scuffed tool chest, the way the single bare bulb dangled over the workbench. The kind of detail needed for me to make a jump.
