Hounded by Kevin Hearne Page B

arthritis and gave them a boost of energy (I called it Mobili-Tea). They felt about ten years younger for about ten hours afterward, and they blessed me for it, bought newspapers, and had their morning arguments about politics and young people at the five tables I had placed in front of the counter. One register was there, and one was in the » back « of the store, on the west side, to handle customers who just wanted something from the bookstore.
    My book inventory was basically an expanded collection of the Religion and New Age shelves in Barnes & Noble, but I also had some serious magical texts behind glass on the north wall. Buddhas and incense and various busts of Hindu gods were sprinkled amongst the shelves; I would have put some crucifixes around too if there had been any demand for that sort of thing, but devout Christians tended to avoid my store for some reason. Celtic crosses were popular, though, as were various representations of the Green Man.
    Perry raised his eyebrows. » Open the second register? Think we’re going to be that busy? «
    I nodded. » I have a feeling it’s going to be an unusual day. « In truth, I simply didn’t want him behind the apothecary counter where Oberon was hiding. » If you get some downtime, see if you can create an end display for the Tarot cards; maybe we can sell some more that way. «
    » Putting them out like that will make them easier to shoplift. «
    I shrugged. » I’m not worried about it. « I wasn’t. Everything in the store had the same binding spell on it that I had put on Fragarach in my backyard. Nothing could go out the door unless it had first been placed on the counter next to one of the registers. More than one would-be thief had been forcibly pulled back into the store by the items in his pocket.
    » Okay, I’ll go turn on the music. Celtic pipes? «
    » Nah, let’s do some guitar this morning—that Mexican duo, Rodrigo y Gabriela. «
    » Right. « Perry headed toward the back of the store, where the sound system was, and I filled a couple of kettles in the sink and put them on to boil. A couple of regulars would be coming in as soon as we unlocked the door, so it was best to have the water ready. I glanced over at the paper racks and saw that Perry had already filled them.
    Some Spanish guitar came on through the sound system, its World beat suggesting to customers that here they could not only find refuge from corporate radio, but also much else that was stale and prepackaged and bereft of mystery. Perry strode back to the door, brandishing his keys, and said, » Okay to open? « and I nodded at him.
    The first person to walk through the door was my daytime lawyer, Hallbjörn Hauk—he used the name Hal for modern American usage. He was dressed in a dark blue pinstripe suit with a white shirt and pale yellow tie. His hair, as ever, was immaculately styled in a Joe Buck haircut, and the dimple in his chin smiled sideways at me. If I didn’t know he was a werewolf, I would have voted for him.
    » Have you seen the morning papers, Atticus? « he said without preamble.
    » Not yet, « I admitted. » Good morning to you, Mr. Hauk. «
    » Right. Well, then, perhaps you’d better take a look. « He grabbed a copy of The Arizona Republic and slapped it down forcefully on the counter in front of me, pointing to a headline on the right-hand column. » Now, tell me, lad, « he said in his best faux-Irish accent tinged with ancient Icelandic, » would y’be knowin’ anything about this spot o’ trouble here? «
    The headline read, RANGER FOUND DEAD IN PAPAGO PARK.
    Casting off my American accent, I replied in kind: » I’d be knowin’ more than is comfortable, just between me and my attorney–client privilege. «
    » I thought as much. I heard Coyote laughin’ last night, and he doesn’t laugh at the harmless, does he now? «
    » No, he doesn’t, sir. I might be needin’ your help sooner rather than later. «
    » Right. I’ll be seein’ you for