“What the hell are you doing here?” Leo demanded.
“Looking after my boss’s interests, of course,” George said, shrugging as he sauntered toward them.
Stopping by a display cabinet, he picked up a little wooden figure of a man and turned it over in his hand before tossing it back down so it clattered to the floor. The pawnbroker tensed, opening his mouth to object. But he closed it slowly without saying anything. Glancingnervously between the three of them, he began to inch slowly toward his counter.
George smiled at Vivian, and the expression made the hairs on her neck and arms prickle. “I hope you didn’t think that she was cutting you loose after your little meeting. If there’s a problem, she wants to make sure it’s taken care of, even if she has to do it herself.”
“You mean yourself,” Leo said flatly.
George shrugged. “Same thing. Boss calls the shots. You can stop fidgeting, fella,” he added, turning so suddenly to the pawnbroker that the man jumped. “I don’t like fidgety little mice. Gives me an itch to make them stay still.”
“I did see you last night, then,” Vivian said.
“You might’ve.” George smiled again. “So, what’re we looking for today? A necklace, you said?” He turned to the pawnbroker. “Tell the girlie about the necklace.”
The man raised his hands, shaking his head. There was sweat beading on his flushed face; he clearly knew the man in his shop was dangerous. “I’m afraid I don’t know—”
“Leave him alone,” Vivian snapped. “We don’t need your help. And I’m not saying anything more with you here. So how about you shake a leg right on out the door?”
“You think not?” George ignored her and, keeping his eyes on the shop owner, stepped forward slowly. The pawnbroker stepped back. “You know anything about this necklace? What does it have to do with this hemlock group? Don’t hold out on me now. I get angry when people hold out on me.”
Vivian had no idea what to do, but Leo was already moving. He stepped forward just enough, putting himself in George’s path. He didn’t do anything threatening, but he planted his feet and smiled coldly. “She said this conversation isn’t happening with you here.”
“And I swear, I don’t know anything,” the pawnbroker stammered, glancing from one face to the next. Vivian could see his hands shaking.
Bruiser George pushed past Leo until he was right in the pawnbroker’s face. “You sure about that?” he snarled.
Before either Vivian or Leo could react, George had grabbed the pawnbroker by the scruff of his neck and shoved him face-first into one of his display cabinets. The pawnbroker reeled backward and stumbled to his knees, stunned, as trinkets tumbled from the shelves, some of them shattering on impact. Bruiser George would have grabbed him again if Vivian hadn’t pushed herself between them.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, shaking at the sudden burst of violence.
“Out of my way, girlie,” he said, sneering at her. “I’m not being paid to stand around. I’m being paid to find out information. How I do it is my business.” He took a step toward Vivian, who was still between him and the pawnbroker, one of his hands rising to shove her out of the way. Vivian tensed.
“Well, I’m not being paid at all,” Leo said as he stepped next to Vivian, loose-limbed and ready for a fight. His voice was cheerful; his eyes were cold. “But I’ll gladly smash your teeth in for free if you don’t get out of here.”
George, menacing and fearless a moment before, hesitated. Beating the pawnbroker was one thing, but he was clearly hesitant to mess with a man who moved like he knew how to defend himself. George was wiry and fierce, but Leo had several inches of height on him, and his shoulders were broader. The pawnbroker whimpered, but no one glanced his way.
Vivian drew herself up, hoping she didn’t look as scared as she felt. “He said get out.”
Bruiser George turned to glance at her, his sneer back. “She won’t be happy if I don’t come back with a full report, girlie.”
“Poor her,” Vivian said coldly. Beside her, Leo shifted, just the smallest change in how he held his weight, ready to move quickly if he needed to. “Guess she’ll have to live with being disappointed.”
“And it’s you she’ll blame for it, not me,” George added, his smile twisting up at one side. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to be on her bad side. She don’t like it when folks she does a favor for throw it back in her face.”
“We didn’t ask for her help,” Vivian snapped. “So she can keep her disappointment to herself. And you can do like I said and get out.”
Bruiser George’s hat had fallen to the ground in the scuffle; he picked it up now and dusted it off carefully before settling it on his head. “I’m going, girlie. Good luck to you.” He glanced at the pawnbroker, who was still cowering on the ground. “You’re going to need it.”
Vivian didn’t let out the breath she was holding until the door shut behind him, the ringing of the little bell sounding like a warning as it hung in the air.
For a moment, no one inside the shop moved. Then Leo turned to the pawnbroker. “You all right?” he asked, holding out his hand.
The pawnbroker didn’t take it, scrambling to his feet on his own and staring at them fearfully. He inched toward the counter as he spoke. “You kick your friend out, then act all nice to make me talk, huh? Think you can play me like that? Get out before I call the police.”
“We’re not trying to play anything,” Vivian insisted as the man took a sudden dive behind the counter. “We just have a few questions, that’s all. About a necklace you sold—”
She broke off as the pawnbroker emerged, a shotgun in his hands. “I said get out of my store,” he ordered, leveling it at them. His voice and his hands were both shaking.
