Page 56 of The Best Trick

But Thor seemed to be laughing now, too. Then Sue saw me and waved. “Sarah!” she said. “Hello!”

I adjusted my wig, stood up, and came in the porch door with the towel fully wrapped around the gun. “Hi, Sue,” I said.

“Fresh towels, piping hot from the laundry,” she said cheerfully. “I think I startled your Theo here.” She turned to Zeus. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t see your car, and I figured I could drop these off.”

Zeus grunted, and I could see that it had been totally awkward that she’d come like that.

“Like I said, I was just going to set these on the doorstep, but the raccoons have been active lately,” she said.

“Thank you!” I chirped.

Sue made a big show of taking them to the linen closet and putting them in. “I'm sorry; I didn't mean to intrude,” she said, coming back out.

“We can always use more fresh towels,” I said.

“You want me to take that one?” she asked, holding her hand out for mine.

“Oh, no, I’m using it.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“We’ll let you know if we need anything.” Zeus’s tone was distinctly unfriendly.

“Sorry again to bother you.” With that she left.

“Are Airbnb people even supposed to do that? Just show up without warning?” I asked.

“No,” Odin grumbled. “And we had an entirefucking-gcloset full of clean towels already. It's not cool that she's coming over like that.”

“You think she knows who we are?” I asked.

“She wants to know if we’ve made a discovery for our gallery,” Thor said.

“If I’d looked into her more closely, I would’ve never used this cover story, goddamnit,” Zeus said. “And, Ice, don't be so freaking friendly to her. She's supposed to give us warning before she comes over. I don’t want her to think it’s cool not to give warning.”

“Well, it was just a little awkward,” I said.

“Wewantedit to be awkward,” Odin pointed out.

Men.I handed Thor his gun back.

ELEVEN

Stan the Man’s sports bar was a large windowless building between a strip joint and a liquor store, a sort of one-stop vice destination.

The place was dark and heavily air-conditioned inside; unsurprisingly, it smelled of stale booze. Everywhere you looked there were giant screens showing sports of every kind, with people gathered in little clusters watching them. Low-hanging lamps illuminated row upon row of busy pool tables at the far end.

“You really think it's possible this guy could have the dog?” I asked.

“Assuming Wilson's debts are extreme enough, and assuming this guy believes the rumor that Wilson has buried money somewhere, it's more than possible.”

We went up to a clean-cut, sporty-looking bartender at the center bar.

“We're looking for Stan,” Zeus said.

“Who's asking?” the sporty bartender asked. Another one sidled up next to him, this guy also clean cut, but a little older. “God Pack,” the older one said. “Go let him know.”

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