Blood Bound

The Boss spit a hunk of chewing tobacco on the ground. "That's for darn sure. Okay. We'll have this done in a day or two, depending on the damage to the underlying structure. The work order also says something about holes in the floor? I'm to repair them and replace the carpet."

"In my bedroom," I said. "I didn't want to hurt my neighbors so I shot into the floor."

He grunted. I couldn't tell if he approved or not. "We'll do that tomorrow. Can we get in the house?"

"I can be here," said Samuel. "I work nights this week."

"Where?"

"At the hospital."

"Better than a convenience store, anyway," said the Boss.

"I've done that, too," agreed Samuel. "The pay is better at the hospital, but the Stop and Rob was less stressful."

"My Joni's an RN at Kadlec Hospital," said one of the other men. "She says those doctors are miserable to work with."

"Terrible," agreed Dr. Samuel Cornick.

I looked up from the bus I was working on, and saw Mrs. Ha

"Hello," I said. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Hello, Mercedes," she said with her usual warm smile. "I love the smell of the air just after a rain, don't you?"

"Absolutely. I see you're back on schedule today."

Her face went a little blank. "What was that, dear?" Then she smiled again. "I found that picture I was looking for."

"Which one?"

But she was finished talking to me. "I have to go now dear. Be good now."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Ha

She disappeared, but I could hear the clatter of her cart and the click of her heels on the pavement for a while after she left.

I finished working on the bus around lunchtime, so I headed back into the office. Gabriel looked up from the computer screen.

"Mail for you on your desk," he said.

"Thanks."

I picked up the box. There was no return address, but I'd seen enough of Stefan's handwriting to recognize it. So I waited until Gabriel left to get us some lunch before I opened it.

There were three packages wrapped in Scooby Doo paper: a scorched stake, a small gold medallion with a dragon on it, and a solid, dark chocolate VW Bus.

I gathered the paper and the box and put it in the trash, only then noticing that there was something else on the desk, a pencil sketch of a man's face. I turned it right side up and saw that it was Adam, his eyes watchful but a hint of a smile on his mouth. On the bottom of the page the artist had signed her name, Marjorie Ha