Wicked Business Read Online Free

BAM, BAM! I opened the door and Hatchet charged in, sword drawn.
    “Hand it over,” he said, “or I will smite thee down.”
    “You’ve gotta lose the Renaissance thing,” Diesel said to Hatchet. “You sound like an idiot.”
    “You mock me now, but there will come a time when you will bow to my sire, and to me as well.”
    Diesel didn’t look worried about bowing to Wulf and Hatchet. “There’s a reason for this visit, right?”
    “You have what is rightly ours. We have the book, and the key is part of the book.”
    “What key?” Diesel asked.
    “You know very well. The Lovey key.”
    “Nope,” Diesel said. “Don’t have it.”
    “You lie. You were in Gilbert Reedy’s apartment ahead of me, and you took the key.”
    “How do you know?” Diesel asked him. “Maybe the police took the key. Maybe the key doesn’t exist. Maybe Reedy swallowed the key, and they’ll find it during the autopsy.”
    “I know because I have powers,” Hatchet said. “I sense these things. I smell them. I see visions. And besides, I looked in the kitchen window just now, and I saw the key lying on the counter.”
    “Finders keepers,” Diesel said.
    Hatchet’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets andhis face got blotchy. “It will be ours!” he yelled. “My master commands it. You will give me the key or all will die!”
    He raised the sword, took a step toward me, and Cat flew through the air and latched onto Hatchet’s face.
    “YOW!” Hatchet shrieked, dropping his sword, batting at Cat.
    Diesel grabbed a handful of Hatchet’s tunic and lifted him off the floor. “I’ll take it from here,” Diesel said to Cat.
    Cat disengaged from Hatchet’s face, gracefully landed on the floor, and flicked away a clump of Hatchet’s hair that was stuck in his claw.
    Diesel carted Hatchet at arm’s length to the open door, pitched him out, closed and locked the door.
    BAM, BAM, BAM. Hatchet was hammering on the door.
    Diesel opened the door and looked down at Hatchet. “Now what?”
    Hatchet had a bunch of cat scratches and punctures that were beginning to ooze blood. “I think I left my sword in your living room.”
    Diesel retrieved the sword, gave it to Hatchet, and closed and locked the door again.
    “Have you ever thought about getting shades on those kitchen windows?” Diesel asked me.
    “Shades cost money.”
    “Maybe I should spend the night here. Make sure you’re safe.”
    “Not necessary. I have Cat.”
• • •
    My clock radio went into music mode at 4:15 A.M. Still dark out. Cat was asleep at the foot of the bed. No rain slashing against the window. All good signs. I dragged myself out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed in my usual uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers.
    The floors throughout the house are wide plank yellow pine. Some very, very old. Some new. The ceilings are low. The walls are old-fashioned plaster. The windows are wood, with small panes. The kitchen is far from high tech, but perfectly functional, and it feels cozy. I have my pots and pans hanging from hooks screwed into ceiling beams over my little work island.
    I started coffee brewing, poured some kitty nuggets into a bowl for Cat, and gave him fresh water. I ate a small container of blueberry yogurt while I waited for my coffee, and reviewed my day.
    It was Monday. That meant I would make all the usual cupcakes, plus an extra forty-five strawberry for Mr. Nelson’s weekly lunch meeting at the boat club. And Clara would need help with the bread, because Mr. Nelson would also want forty-five pretzel rolls. My afternoon and evening were open, but I had a feeling Diesel would fill the empty spaces.
    I poured the brewed coffee into a travel mug, added a splash of half-and-half, stuffed myself into a sweatshirt, and grabbed my purse. Diesel had taken the Lovey key andReedy’s papers with him, but the Shakespeare anthology was still on the counter. I stared at the anthology and thought about Hatchet and Wulf … that they