A Dirty Job (Grim Reaper #1) by Christopher Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

said. “The frog is not for sale, ma’am, I’m sorry. It’s defective.”
    “Then why do you have it on the shelf? Why is it marked for sale? I don’t see any defect.”
    Evidently she couldn’t see that the goofy porcelain frog was not only glowing in her hands, it had started to pulsate. Charlie reached across the counter and snatched it away from her.
    “It’s radioactive, ma’am. I’m sorry. You can’t buy it.”
    “I wasn’t dating her,” Ray said. “I just flew to the Philippines to meet her.”
    “It is not radioactive,” the woman said. “You’re just trying to jack up the price. Fine, I’ll give you twenty for it.”
    “No, ma’am, public safety,” Charlie said, trying to look concerned, holding the frog to his chest as if shielding her from its dangerous energy. “And it’s clearly ridiculous. You’ll note that this frog is playing a banjo with only two strings. A travesty, really. Why don’t you let my colleague show you something in a cymbal-playing monkey. Ray, could you show this young woman something in a monkey, please.” Charlie hoped that the “young woman” would win him points.
    The woman backed away from the counter, holding her purse before her like a shield. “I’m not sure I want to buy anything from you wack jobs.”
    “Hey!” Ray protested, as if to say that there was only one wack job on duty and he wasn’t it.
    Then she did it, she quickstepped to a rack of shoes and picked up a pair of size-twelve, red Converse All Stars. They, too, were glowing. “I want these.”
    “No.” Charlie tossed the frog over his shoulder to Ray, who fumbled it and almost dropped it. “Those aren’t for sale either.”
    The tweed woman backed away toward the door, holding the sneakers behind her. Charlie stalked her down the aisle, taking the occasional grab at the All Stars. “Give them.”
    When the woman butt-bumped into the front door and the bell over the jamb jingled, she looked up and Charlie made his move, faking hard left, then going right, reaching around her and grabbing the laces of the sneakers, as well as a scoop of big, tweedy ass in the bargain. He quickstepped back toward the counter, tossed the sneakers to Ray, and then turned and fell into a sumo stance to challenge the tweed woman.
    She was still at the door, looking as if she couldn’t decide to be terrified or disgusted. “You people need to be put away. I’m reporting you to the Better Business Bureau and the local merchants’ association. And you, Mr. Asher, can tell Ms. Severo that I will be back.” And with that, she was through the door and gone.
    Charlie turned to Ray. “Ms. Severo? Lily? She was here to see Lily?”
    “Truant officer,” Ray said. “She’s been in a couple of times.”
    “You might have said something.”
    “I didn’t want to lose the sale.”
    “So, Lily—”
    “Ducks out the back when she sees her coming. The woman also wanted to check with you that the notes for Lily’s absences were legitimate. I vouched.”
    “Well, Lily is going back to school, and as of right now, I’m back to work.”
    “That’s great. I took this call today—an estate in
Pacific
Heights
. Lots of nice women’s clothes.” Ray tapped a piece of notepaper on the counter. “I’m not really qualified to handle it.”
    “I’ll do it, but first we have a lot to catch up on. Flip the ‘Closed’ sign and lock the front door, would you, Ray?”
    Ray didn’t move. “Sure, but—Charlie, are you sure that you’re ready to go back to work?” He nodded to the sneakers and frog on the counter.
    “Oh, those, I think there’s something wrong with them. You don’t see anything unusual about those two items?”
    Ray looked again. “Nope.”
    “Or that once I took the frog away from her, she went right for a pair of sneakers that are clearly not her size?”
    Ray weighed the truth against the sweet deal he had here, with an apartment and under-the-table income and a boss that had really been