Hah! Who would have thought three years of band camp would come in so handy?Me.That’s why I went.
Fuck yeah, band camp.
“You know about parlor guitars?”
“Just casually,” I said, sitting down in front of the stoop and motioning for Paul to do the same. He, however, chose to stand, his arms crossed over that scrumptious chest of his like a guard dog.
“Would you like me to show you what I mean?”
The man gripped the instrument closer to him, so I thought I should clarify.
“I don’t mean hold it or anything, I just meant point or direct your hands, so you can do your thing.”
“Huh. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you help me? I ain’t no one.”
“Do you have to be someone for me to wanna help with a cool guitar?”
“Round here? Yeah. Nobody does anything for free.”
I wanted to tell him that I did, but that wasn’t true. And even though it was difficult for someone to lie to me, something told me this guy also had a sense for such things.
“I guess I’m hoping that if I prove to you I’m not a threat, you might be willing to help me.”
“What kind of help we talking about?”
This time, I gave no elaborate cover story. “We’re trying to find someone who has information on a contract that went out. A hit on a rich wolf heir.”
He nodded, his weary eyes filled with a slate-gray derision that also filled the air around him. “Nope. Don’t know a thing about that.”
“Oh well.” I shrugged. “Wanna tune your guitar anyway?”
His gaze shifted from me to Paul, then he nodded.
It was kind of fun to watch his long, slender fingers move across the frets, tightening, listening, then tightening again when I pointed or gave him direction. In the end, it was less me telling him what to do and more the two of us problem-solving together: him the physical force, and me with some experience dealing with antique guitars. It had been a bit of a hyperfixation my junior year of high school, and while I’d dropped it eighteen months later, I was grateful for everything I had learned.
In fact, it felt a bit full circle to pass the knowledge on. Even if it was to a criminal stranger.
“Would ya listen to that?” I said once we had the guitar sounding like we wanted it. “Think you can manage that on your own from now on?”
When he nodded, I stood, knees protesting. Internally, I scolded them. I was too young for them to be popping like that,even if I had abused them with skateboarding for most of my young life.
And currently when you were running late for an appointment.
“All right, we’re off then. Hope things go well for you…”
“Angel,” he answered finally, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
“Right. Nice to meet you, Angel.”
I turned to Paul, whose patience was wearing thin around the edges. I felt bad for him. I knew he was anxious to get any momentum with our investigation, but so far it had been strikeout after strikeout.
“You need to talk to the Whisper.”
I froze, then whipped around to the slip of a man. “Pardon?”