Page 143 of Back in the Saddle

The drawing was a gingerbread man who looked very angry, and possibly homicidal.

Gingerbread, I could do.

Rum, I could also do (very much).

Raisin, I could do in an oatmeal cookie (maybe).

So I’d skip that today.

I swung into the back door, dropped my bag (my bigger one, with Taser, something Eric returned by leaving it on my kitchen counter that morning) in my locker and announced to the room at large when I hit the main area, “Angels Confab!”

Raye, serving someone a mug of coffee, looked at me.

Harlow, taking an order, looked at me.

Luna, at the espresso machine steaming milk, looked at me.

Tito glanced at me, then he returned to and poked at the screen of his iPad.

I headed behind the bar.

Raye and Harlow joined me and Luna.

I opened my mouth.

I shut it when Tex joined us, his bulk making the space back there, which wasn’t minimal, seem stifling.

“Hey, Tex,” I greeted.

“Yo,” he mini-boomed.

“Um…” I circled a finger among the girls. “We’re having confab.”

“Right,” he said and didn’t move.

Okay.

Tex was going to be in on our confab.

I looked to the chicks.

But Harlow spoke. “Are you okay after last night?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Where did you and Eric go after you went in and came out of your apartment?” Luna asked.

“To the grocery store for the ingredients to an icebox cake.”

The chicks stared at each other.

“Are we doin’ boy-girl stuff, ’cause I’m out if we are,” Tex announced.

Since he wasn’t an Angel, I considered lying and telling him we were.

Then I said, “No. I had a great idea this morning to catch whoever is grabbing people from the camps.”

“What’s that?” Raye asked, her eyes lighting.

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