Crow cleared his throat to get their attention and pointed toward the tail of the tent.
“Get it!” one shouted.
“Over there, over there!” the other said.
They were off in a flash, zeroing in on an old suitcase-style record player that sat on a pile of crab traps and rusted Christmas tree stands.
For a second, just a flash, I thought the record player glowed with yellow light, but then the wind whipped, buckling the whale’s tail, and the yellow light—if it had even been there—was gone.
“So, seriously. Where did you get all this?” I asked.
“Is that an accusation I hear in your voice? It sounds like you’re trying to accuse me of something.”
“I can throw you in jail for annoying me, you know.”
“Like you would.”
There was that. I didn’t abuse my station here. None of us on the force did. Upholding Ordinary’s laws meant none of us were above those laws. We followed the rules—all of them, both supernatural and human.
“Theft is still a crime,” I said. “So… maybe you want to just tell the truth here.”
“Storage units.”
I took a drink of the coffee. It was good. Rich. “Whose storage?”
“No one’s.” At my look, he shook his head. “Abandoned. People move out of this town, you know. They stop paying storage bills then their units go up for sale. I’m surprised you didn’t know that’s how it worked. They made a whole TV show about it once.”
Jean snorted, even though her mouth was stuffed with brownie. “Fake TV show,” she mumbled.
“Totally staged,” he agreed. “But all this?” He raised his hands like a king displaying his land. “All of it purchased by me—legally,” he added. “Wanna look around? Maybe you’ll find something to remove that stick out of your—”
“—asshole!” A teen laughed.
Crow’s eyebrows rose, and he pointed over his shoulder at the kid, Keith, a werewolf.
He and the shapeshifter, Fernando, were around the same age. Fernando held a big, old hourglass up and away from the werewolf’s reach.
“I saw it first,” Fernando said. “But for the low, low price of three hundred dollars, I might be willing to part with it.”
Keith crossed his arms and scowled but could only hold it for a second before he smiled. “The sticker says ten bucks, doofus.” He shoved his friend.
Fernando lowered the hourglass. Once again, I thought I saw a glitter of gold, but it was gone so quickly, I was left blinking my eyes and wondering if it was just eyestrain.
“Toss me five,” Fernando said. “We can use it for game night.”
“Deal.” Keith dug in his back pocket for his wallet, and the two boys moved on to the next table, laughing about a collection of busted plastic lightsabers.
“All right,” I said. “So all this is legally yours.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all this time. Glad you finally caught up.”
Jean had finished the brownie. She wadded the napkin and stuck it in her coat pocket. “What about the traffic light?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Did you steal it?” I asked.
He threw his hands up. “Why would I want a traffic light? They’re kind of hard to sell and heavy as hell, which means no one would want to pay shipping for it.”
