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“Kill you? Where’s the fun in that?” The man’s previously hard eyes went wide when Raven knelt down and poked the stick close to his skin. “Who paid the blood price?” She gave him a few seconds to answer, and then moved the stick closer. The murderer wriggled, desperately trying to move away. “Who paid the blood price?” His face a mask of horror, the murderer screamed, “The Lakeshore Man! The Lakeshore Man!” “Fuck!” Raven cursed, and then tossed the branch back toward the fire. Confused, Mindblind asked, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It means that this job came from the guild. He doesn’t know who hired him. Only the guildmaster does. That’s just a fake name he was supposed to use with contacts.” Mindblind snorted in resignation. The man who had killed Delly was dead. Raven had recovered her sister. There was no reason for them to pursue this any farther, and plenty of reasons not to. “Let’s just get the hell out of… The fuck?!” Mindblind jumped back as an ear-piercing. For awhile, anyway.” Isolde came back outside, carrying an open can of Coke in one hand and a folding chair in the other. She had a spiral notebook under her arm. She set the Coke down on the ground, and unfolded the chair. As she sat down, she said, “Okay. What’s the story?” “What’s the grocery notebook for?” asked George. “Well, if I’m gonna be your manager, I need to take notes, “ she told him. “Manager? Since when do I need a manager? And to manage what?” asked George. “Whoa! Whoa! Isolde, you’re getting way ahead of things,” interjected Bob. Then he said, “Do you have an extra chair for the old guy?” “Be right back,” Isolde said. And she went back into the house. She reappeared at the door, carrying two kitchen chairs. She had a Bic pen in her teeth. “Horge,” she said around the pen, “I ‘ought one ‘or ‘ou, too.” George took the chairs from her and she took the pen out of her mouth. “Bob, here, has some kind of proposition for you. But listen. Did you get the brakes.
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