after the remodel.” He turned to me. “How did yours happen—your robbery? Guns?”
“No guns,” I said.
He gestured to my halo, finally acknowledging it. “You’re the magician who binds Earthbounds.”
I gave him a soft smile. “I am.”
“People talk,” he said by way of explanation, turning his attention to re-stacking a fallen display of all-natural beeswax lip balms. “Tell me about your robbery.”
“Two Earthbound kids. Late teens, maybe. One blond, one dark-headed. Both faces were painted in theater makeup. A reindeer and an elf.”
“A horse and some sort of frog,” he said in agreement, referring to his robbers.
Could’ve been the same get-ups. It was, after all, really bad makeup.
Andrew’s mouth twisted briefly. “Did the blond boy poof! your electricity?”
“Yep. I’ve never seen a knack that powerful. The other boy used telekinesis to lift my till drawer across the room.”
The shop owner nodded slowly. “He tried to lift the damn safe straight up through the counter.”
Thank God we kept Tambuku’s safe in the back office. Those punks might’ve made it out of the bar with a thousand dollars or so, but they missed five grand in the safe. Idiots.
Andrew continued, saying, “He nearly killed one of my girls who was stuck behind the register when he was trying to lift that thing. Thank God she had the sense to crawl away.”
“He slopped paint all over our floor and my partner slipped and broke her collarbones.”
Two thick gray eyebrows shot up. “The pretty Chinese gal?”
I nodded.
He made a sympathetic noise.
“She’ll be okay,” I assured him. “A healer is helping knit her bones back together. She’s at home resting right now.”
“Poor thing. What’s wrong with kids these days? No respect. No caution.” He waved an angry hand, gesticulating wildly. “In my day, we were taught to hide our knacks at all cost. You start flaunting it, you draw attention. No one cares anymore.”
“I don’t think these are normal knacks,” Lon said. “I’ve never seen anyone lift anything that heavy.”
Andrew grunted an acknowledgment as I squatted near the splintered countertop, inspecting the damage. “Korea, huh? Ever been?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, that. No. Just liked the dragon.”
Andrew nodded as a strange look pinched his face.
“Not a dragon fan?” Lon squinted at him with his Emotion Detective face, like he sometimes does when he’s trying to suss out the source of my bad mood.
“No, it’s not that.” Andrew shook his head. “It’s probably nothing.”
“You sure?” I said, suddenly interested in what Lon was sensing.
“It’s silly.”
“Maybe not,” I encouraged.
“It’s just . . .” Andrew scratched his ear. “The blond boy dressed like a frog . . . it’s hard to be sure, but he sounded like . . .” Andrew shook his head. “Ah, never mind. My wife says old age is ruining my hearing. Have to turn up the TV to hear the news.”
“Go on,” I encouraged. “The blond boy sounded like what?”
“Not a ‘what.’ A who.” Andrew squinted one eye shut as he studied my face, then looked away. “I didn’t realize this until now, but he sounded like a boy who used to come in here after school. Been a few months since I last saw him. Think he might’ve started college. Don’t know his name. Only know that his father drives a beautiful old Plymouth Road Runner.”
I gave him a blank look, but Lon was grunting in appreciation.
“An old racing car from the seventies,” Andrew explained. “Prettiest shade of sky blue you’ve ever seen with a black stripe down the center of the hood. The kid sometimes drove it here—parked it outside by the curb. Had a dragon bumper sticker on the fender. The dragon on your jacket reminded me.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong.”
“And you don’t know his name?” Lon asked.
“Sorry.” Andrew said.
I looked at Lon. “Unusual car. Can’t be that many of them in the city.”
“I don’t know,” Lon said. “A lot of car collectors in Morella.”
“Especially the old muscle cars,” Andrew agreed. “They race them every month.”
“Where?”
“Speed Demon Rally. Down at the Morella Racetrack, on the highway going out toward La Sirena. I go sometimes. Next one’s tomorrow night.”
“Have you ever seen that boy there?” Lon asked.
“Saw the car there a few weeks ago, but not the boy.”
Couldn’t hurt to check it out. At the very least, one of the collectors might know the name of the kid’s father.
I thanked Andrew and told him I’d let him know if I found out anything. On my way out, I paused at the door. A dark sedan