Battle Bond: An Urban Fantasy Dragon Series (Death Before Dragons #2) - Lindsay Buroker Page 0,62
from his crouch and walked across the lawn toward the house.
Reluctantly, I lowered my gun. Even though I wanted to take out the brothers’ allies, I couldn’t kill someone who hadn’t committed a clear-cut crime. Maybe the leopard had killed humans numerous times, but maybe he hadn’t.
The spotted feline disappeared back inside. Nobody else came out.
I walked back to my car, planning to check the fence company next. Maybe the person who’d been making bullets for the shifters would have some good intelligence. And maybe it would give me ideas for how to lure away members of the Pride—or even lure the Pardus brothers out by themselves—so I wouldn’t have to deal with so many enemies at once.
The Sepes Fencing Company was located near the river in Woodinville, on the industrial side opposite the trail. I entered through a door in the front of the corrugated metal building after checking out the fenced side yard full of vinyl posts and rolls of chain link. Everything inside registered as completely normal to my senses. I could, however, detect something magical inside the building. Maybe that was where the enhanced fence bits were kept. So long as the worker who made them was also kept back there.
A petite, bronze-skinned woman with a knitting needle stuck through her loose gray bun was manning the front desk. The door didn’t ring or buzz, and I walked up and leaned over the high counter before she noticed me. Two more knitting needles were fast at work in her hands, crafting a scarf that proclaimed her, or some future gift recipient, a Ravenclaw.
“Can I help you?” She looked up without pausing her knitting. “Are you interested in a fence?”
“Home security is a concern for me,” I said without lying. “I’ve had a few break-ins, and a friend of mine just had an arsonist take out her most prized possession.” Never mind that a fence would be useless to either of us.
“That’s awful. Where do you live?”
“Ballard.”
“I hadn’t realized any parts of Ballard were still that rough.”
Mostly just my apartment. “I live in a transitional neighborhood. I’m particularly interested in your enhanced fences. Is the person who makes them available for a consultation?”
“That’s not quite how it works. We come out to your house or business, take some measurements, talk about what you hope to achieve, and then give a quote.”
“I’d like to see if your fences are truly enhanced before going through all that hassle. And talk to the person who does it.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she set aside the knitting. “The people who do our in-house builds aren’t the ones who interact with customers. You’ll be working with the installers and a supervisor. I can see if Timothy can come out and talk to you, but I’d rather get your information and set up a time for a consult at your house. Ballard is a little out of our usual service area, but we can probably accommodate you.”
“How about a tour of the facility first?” I waved to the closed door behind her. The grinding of metal being cut emanated from the back.
“We don’t give tours.”
“Can you make an exception?” I pulled out a fifty and laid it on the counter. I would prefer to bribe the woman before resorting to threats, especially since she was my mom’s age, or breaking into the facility and risking being caught by a security camera.
“It’s not typical.”
I laid another fifty on top of the first. “Are you sure? I hear good yarn is expensive.”
She slid the bills off the desk and stuffed them into her bra. The blue dress she wore must not have had pockets. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show you around. No recording allowed though. We create some custom fencing materials that our competitors would love to know about. We can’t have the videos getting up on the internet.”
“I understand completely.”
The three people who would watch a video about fences could ruin the company.
“This way. What’s your name?”
“Val.”
“I’m Martina.” She glanced at me—up at me—as I rounded the desk to join her. “You’ve got great height. Are you in the market for a scarf? I know it’s only June, but this is the time to order.”
“Not really.”
“I can customize it. I have an Etsy shop.” She handed me a card. “Please look at my reviews. People are very satisfied.”
Everyone was an entrepreneur these days.
“Do you know what house you’re in?” she asked.
“Pardon?”
“You know, for Harry Potter. Those are my most popular scarves.”