Wicked Business (Lizzy and Diesel 2)

An hour later, Diesel dropped Glo and me off at the bakery so we could get our cars. “I have to check on Carl,” he said. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

I waved him off and searched in my bag for my keys. The bakery was closed and there were only two cars in the small lot. Clara was obviously off somewhere, probably having a glass of wine with a friend.

“That was really cool the way the writing appeared on the bell,” Glo said, unlocking her car. “But I don’t get the clue. The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails. The history often of Tichy persuades when pure innocence prevails. What the heck does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping we’d find the stone today, so I could get back to my nice safe life.”

Pbbblt.

“Did you do that?” I asked Glo.

“No.”

We stood still and listened.

Pbbblt.

“It smells like ham,” Glo said. “It must be Hatchet.”

Hatchet moved out from the shadows. “My intent was to capture and torture for information, but you have made my job easy. I now know the clue and can give this information to my master.”

“He’s not going to believe you,” Glo said. “You fart.”

Hatchet stood tall with one hand on his sword. “Everyone doth fart.”

“Not like you,” Glo said. “You’re a ham farter.”

Hatchet pressed his lips together. “’Tis a manly fart.”

“It would be best if Hatchet didn’t get to talk to Wulf,” I said to Glo.

Glo nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” And she jumped at Hatchet. “Get him!”

Hatchet turned and ran flat-out down the street in the dark, with Glo and me on his heels.

Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft.

Glo took a flying leap, tagged Hatchet, and they both went down to the ground.

BAROOOOMPH!

Hatchet was kicking and clawing, Glo was holding tight, there was a flash of light, and Wulf appeared.

“Enough,” Wulf said.

Glo and Hatchet went flat on their backs and looked up at Wulf.

“Master,” Hatchet said. “I have critical information.” He went to all fours in an e

ffort to stand, he farted, and I heard Glo squelch a nervous giggle.

Wulf stood still and silent, his attention turned to me. “Tell my cousin he courts anarchy,” Wulf said, his voice soft, as always.

I felt a hot flush creep from deep inside me to the surface of my skin. Adrenaline, I told myself, pushing aside the possibility that it felt a teeny bit sexual.

Wulf and Hatchet slipped into a shadow and disappeared. Moments later, a car engine caught and roared down the street.

“That’s a ten on my Creep-O-Meter,” Glo said, getting to her feet. “How does he just appear and disappear? And what is he?”