good history with money.â
âItâs not money. Itâs authority. Someone gives you a job and you take it, but then they give you an envelope full of stuff to read and itâs like homework. You leave it on the floor hoping the dog will eat it.â
âAnd it never does.â
âYouâre mad at the dog we donât have?â
âCan we rent one to clean up my mistakes?â
âIt would have to be a pretty big dog.â
I poke her in the leg with my fork and she punches my arm. Candy isnât exactly human. Sheâs a Jade, which is kind of like a vampire, only worse. It also means sheâs strong. Her love taps are like a velvet-covered baseball bat.
âAbbot said there was stuff in the folder about insurance.â
âMmm,â says Candy around a mouthful of food. She swallows and says, âYep. Medical and dental. Thereâs 401(k) stuff in there too.â
âNow heâs just fucking with me. He knows I donât have any bank accounts.â
âHeâs the augur. He has pull. Just because thereâs paperwork that says youâre dead, it doesnât have to always be that way. Talk to him. Maybe the Sub Rosa can resurrect the late James Stark.â
I shake my head and eat my tamales. Iâm very hungry and then very self-conscious. Weâre in bed naked and I wonder if I have any bruises on my body from the fight. I should have checked myself when I took a shower. Itâs a good thing Iâm not a spy. Iâd blow my cover story two minutes into enemy territory. I change the subject.
âDid Julie tell you about the kid I brought her?â
âYeah. Heâs a friend of the Abbotâs or something like that.â
âAbbot was cagey. Iâve been wondering about that, but I donât know what to think.â
âThere arenât that many secrets men usually have about a missing kid. The kid is dead. The kid was snatched by the mother and he doesnât want to say so. Or he snatched the kid and doesnât want to say. Thereâs another more common reason.â
âCome on. Tell me.â
âItâs his kid and maybe Mom is married to someone else.â
I try to picture that for a second. I donât know anything about Abbotâs personal life. He could date women, men, or tentacled elder gods for all I know. I look at Candy.
âYouâre getting good at that detective stuff.â
âI know,â she says. âThatâs why Iâm with Julie and you got fired.â
âThanks for bringing that up again.â
âBlame it on the dog.â
When we finish the tamales, Candy grabs the plates, takes them into the kitchen, and ditches them in the sink. She comes back into the bedroom and crawls onto my lap.
I start to kiss her, but she pulls back.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âWhat happened to your eye?â she says.
I reflexively touch the bruise.
âItâs nothing. Like I said, I bumped my head leaving Abbotâs boat tonight.â
âSandman Slim walks into doors?â
âHey, a guy snuck up behind me tonight and sneaked a selfie before I knew it.â
âThat I can believe,â she says, and rolls off me onto her back. âI know thereâs something wrong with you, but I canât help if you wonât let me.â
âIâm okay,â I say.
âNo, youâre not. This isnât the first time youâve come home bruised. Youâre usually better at hiding them, but I know your body pretty well, so I notice them even when I donât say anything.â
I put a hand down on the bed and she reaches out and wraps her warm hand around one of my fingers. I donât want to look at her, so I look at my hand. Old scars gleam white like I stuck my hand into a metal grinder looking for my car keys.
âIâm still getting used to this new life is all. Iâm a little off balance.â
She rolls