Broken Shadows by AJ Larrieu Read Free Book Online Page A

could go ahead and take possession if they’d credit us the rent.”
    “Oh God.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I knew the Center still owed money Doc was planning to pay out of her own pocket, but I hadn’t known this.
    “It’s not a problem, is it? I thought I told you—they’re starting demolition soon. I really thought you’d already moved in with Avery and Stu.”
    Christ.
Now I couldn’t tell her I needed to stay without revealing Avery’s secret.
“Everything’s fine. I just need to get a couple of things out.” I looked around Jackson’s spare bedroom and made myself admit I’d probably be staying in it whether I liked it or not.
    An hour later, Doc met me at the Center with the key. “No point in getting the locks changed,” she said.
    “I guess not.” I was going to have to put my things in storage. I mentally subtracted the cost of renting a storage locker from my security deposit calculation. I was going to have to find someone to help me move it all. Looking at my secondhand futon and beat-up dinette set, it hardly seemed worth the trouble. I packed my hair products and lotion, the rest of my clothes and makeup, and closed the door on the little place with a dusty slam.
    Doc gave me a lift to the Muni station. She spent half the drive talking about a new project she had in mind, something about educational internet radio. “I hope you find something, Mina. I know it’s tough out there right now.”
    “I’ll be all right.”
    “You’ll let me know if you need anything, though, right? I mean, letters of reference or anything.”
    “Of course.” I unloaded my suitcase from the trunk, and Doc drove off in the midday traffic.
    My first real shift at the speakeasy was that evening, but Malik had said I could come in early and help with a delivery. I tucked my suitcase in the closet of Jackson’s spare room and took the train to the Mission. I was starving, so I splurged on a sandwich at a nearby café and hoped someone would be able to let me in to Simon’s. Fortunately, when I walked into Featherweight’s, Caleb gave me a little wink.
    “Go around back. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
    “Back?”
    “The real employee entrance. In the alley. Go through the side door.” He pointed across the bar.
    Catty-corner to the bathrooms was a red door with a pen-and-ink drawing of a cardinal mounted above it. I slid off the barstool and went to open it, finding that it led into the brick alley between the bar and the abandoned car dealership next door. After a minute or so, I heard a scraping sound, and Malik appeared from behind the Dumpster at the back of the alley. I walked over to meet hm.
    “Jackson told me. You okay?” He lightly touched the bruise on my cheek with two fingers. It was still tender.
    “I’m okay. Just shaken up.”
    “Some shit. Hope he catches the guy. Come on—this way.” He ducked back behind the Dumpster.
    “Wait.” I trotted to keep up with him. “You mean Jackson’s looking for him himself?”
    Malik led me through a plain wooden door wedged open with a crushed beer can. Inside was a flight of stairs leading down.
    “Sure,” he said as he led me down a flight of rickety wooden stairs to a short hallway. “It’s what he does.”
    Great. As if I wasn’t imposing on him enough as it was, now he felt compelled to chase down my mugger. We came to the end of the hallway and another door, steel like the one at the main speakeasy entrance, but unpainted.
    “Here’s your key.” Malik handed me a plain silver key. Its edges were still sharp. Freshly cut. He used a key of his own to open the door. “Takes you right into the storeroom.”
    “Neat.”
    We walked through said storeroom—really just an oversized pantry—then through a hallway with more doorways and alcoves cut into the concrete.
    “How big is this place?” I asked, looking around. I walked a few yards down and saw that the hallway became a kind of tunnel as it curved