Day Shift (Midnight, Texas #2) by Charlaine Harris

said Mr. Snuggly in his small shrill voice. With a movement too quick to track, the boy was on his knees in front of the cat, peering into his face. Suddenly, the boy smiled. It was bewitching. He looked up at Fiji, and Olivia could see that his eyes were pansy purple.
    “Okay, I’m in love,” Fiji said cheerfully. “Hey, kid. I’m Fiji. This is Mr. Snuggly.”
    “I’m Diederik,” the boy said.
    “I’m Bobo.” Bobo extended his hand to the boy, who took it uncertainly. They shook, in an awkward way. Shaking didn’t seem tobe a custom with which the boy was familiar. To Olivia’s surprise, Joe opened his arms and the boy stepped into them without hesitation. They hugged briefly, and the boy moved away.
    “And I’m Olivia,” she said, taking a step forward.
    He looked up at her, and Olivia had the sensation that she was being weighed and measured. He did not extend his hand, but he gave her a respectful nod. Olivia was quite content with that, even flattered. Then something happened to the boy’s face. His turned it up and rotated it as if he were following a scent.
    “What’s that smell?” he asked the Rev.
    The Rev bent over and whispered in the boy’s ear.
    “Ahhhhh,” the boy said, as if a suspicion had been confirmed.
    The Rev straightened and looked at all of them, in turn. “Diederik’s going to be staying with me for a while. His daddy’s got to do a few things.”
    Olivia could think of at least five questions she wanted to ask, but this was the Reverend Emilio Sheehan, and he had many secrets. She knew she had better not ask any questions. It would be taken amiss. You didn’t want to be on the wrong side of the Rev.
    “We’re glad to have you, young man,” Bobo said. “You’re welcome to come hang out with me here at the store any time, if the Rev has other stuff to do.”
    “Or with me, at the Inquiring Mind,” Fiji said, as warm as melting butter.
    “I can take you bow hunting,” Olivia offered stiffly. She liked the way the boy had known right away she deserved respect.
Or at least I could comb your hair,
she thought. Grooming was something else Olivia understood.
    “Thanks,” the boy said, to all of them, and he seemed pleased, though his tone was noncommittal.
    “In the meantime,” the Rev said, obviously coming to his mainpoint, “what are all these people doing in town? The hotel was bad enough.” He’d taken off his dusty hat, and his thinning black hair was combed across his skull, damp with sweat.
    “Sit down,” Bobo suggested. “I’ll tell you.” They all sat, except the boy, who didn’t seem much interested in what the adults were saying. He roamed around the shop making scarcely a sound, his big purple eyes taking in all the oddities and peculiarities around him, his mouth slightly open in wonder. Olivia remembered the first time she’d been in Midnight Pawn, and she could understand his fascination.
    Four years ago. She’d been on her way to Dallas to get a flight to—where? Somewhere east. She’d completed a job east of Marthasville, an old rancher who wouldn’t sell his land to a man with a lot of money. She almost never left from the same airport she’d flown into, and never under the same name. That day, for the first time, she’d seen the exit for Midnight and Davy on the highway.
    A town called Midnight. The name had caught her fancy.
    She’d been in no hurry, so she’d taken the exit. And she’d seen the closed storefronts, but the pawnshop . . . stuck at a crossroad in what seemed like to her the middle of nowhere . . . had been fascinating.
    She’d had to go in.
    And she’d been captivated by the cases full of old things, mysterious things. The shelves had seemed crowded with objects she had to handle. She’d looked for a long time. When Bobo, the new proprietor, had told her gently that he needed to close for an hour to get his supper, she’d driven up to eat in Davy (not trusting the Home Cookin Restaurant, wisely, because