“Great food, and it’s gluten-free.”
Barbecue was going to be an easy go-to from now on. They were loving it.
“What made you go to a barbecue place when you don’t eat meat?” Bartholomew was trying to talk in between bites.
I was sipping my tea. “Big Jake’s has great chili fries, and they’re cheap. When you’re broke, you find the places with the biggest servings for the least amount of money. It’s a plus when the food is great.”
They both agreed.
“How did it go? You were gone for a while.” Constantine was back in business mode.
“Good and bad. Which one you want first?”
“Bad. At least we can end on a happy note.” Bartholomew was awesome and so positive.
“Found Ana, and then she was kidnapped.” That pretty much explained the whole thing.
Bartholomew and Constantine were staring at me. Constantine was in midbite, and Bartholomew had his fork in the air.
“Isis, that’s not bad news. That’s actually horrible. We need to work on your definitions.” Bartholomew’s happy mood had vanished, and he placed his fork back on his plate.
“Did she at least tell you something?” Constantine licked his paw.
“She mentioned seeing ghosts, and they told her something about a golden door coming.”
“Do you believe her?” Bartholomew was not buying it.
“She looked like hell. She believed she was seeing ghosts. Who am I to argue? Besides, I see dead people all the time, as I found out today.”
“You are Death’s intern. You don’t count. What soul did you run into now?” Constantine never took my ghost issues seriously.
“Father George at Sacred Heart.”
“Oh, great. How is Father George?” Why was I not surprised Constantine knew him?
“I guess he’s OK, considering the man is dead and hanging out at a cemetery. I don’t get it. Is he in purgatory?” I had figured it would be rude to ask the dead guy. I had no issues asking Constantine.
“Girl, please. He’s actually a unique client. Death delivered him to heaven. Once there, he spoke with Saint Peter and asked to come back. Saint Peter agreed. Death brought him back, and he’s been watching over that church and flock ever since.”
I was so happy Bartholomew was looking at Constantine, as confused as I felt.
“I thought you said he was dead. What do you mean, Death brought him back?” Bartholomew said exactly what I was thinking.
Constantine looked at both of us as if we were stupid. “Of course he’s dead. Death delivered his soul to his new home. Remember, we deliver souls. How else was he going to get there? Granted, it was a little unconventional.” Constantine ate another piece of his brisket before going on. “She left him her card, so anytime he gets tired, she’ll take him home. In ten years, he has never called. Dedication, I’m telling you. They don’t make souls like that anymore.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t think I would had done that.” I was honest enough with myself to know that.
“You’re also not a priest who gave up sex for your god. Different career path.” That was a valid point. Constantine was right—very different paths.
“So what is the good news? The way this conversation is going, I’m afraid to ask.” Bartholomew was hiding his face behind his cup.
“Thanks, Bart. Well, we now have an informant.” I gave them both a huge smile.
“You do know we work for D-E-A-T-H, not D-E-A. What kind of informant do we have?” Constantine was a little too proud of his wittiness.
“Constantine, you are not funny.”
“Yes, I am. Stop changing the subject. Talk, little girl.” Constantine would have made a great mob boss.
“Bob’s friend, Shorty. It seems the witches have put a bounty on me. Shorty wants to even the playing field.”
“Wait. You got someone in the underground to work for us?”
I nodded.
“Now I’m impressed. That is really good news.”
“Technically, he volunteered. Word is traveling around the country about New York. The underground and the souls are nervous.”
“When are you supposed to hear back from this Shorty?” Constantine had finished eating and was in his military general mode.
“He knows our time frame. As soon as he hears something, we’ll know.”
“Not bad at all. We’ve been trying to infiltrate their communication network for years, but it’s almost impossible. They don’t trust outsiders. I’m surprised he talked to you, especially with your track record.”
“Don’t remind me, Constantine. I already feel awful. He’s doing it for Bob.”
“Good deal. What about Father George?”
“The church is protected, but that won’t stop the witches. Based on what Father told me, with enough power the witches can blast a hole into purgatory from anywhere.”
“Not anywhere, Isis. Locations are just as powerful as spells. We need to find a place in Texarkana where the walls are weak enough.” Constantine had a far-off stare, as if he were seeing a map in his head.
“Constantine, are you going to eat your beans?” Bartholomew said, bringing Constantine back to reality.
Constantine looked down at his plate. “Not at all, Bartholomew. I prefer meat.”
“This is perfect. Isis doesn’t eat meat, so you can have her share. You don’t eat the sides, so I can have your share. I love it.”
Constantine and I just stared at Bartholomew. For a boy genius, at times I forgot he was just a kid.
“That’s a great way to look at it.” He did have a valid point. I just smiled.
“Oh, I also ran into Angelito at Big Jake’s.”
That stopped all food eating and conversation.
“Did you kick him?” Words of wisdom from the eleven-year-old.
“No, I didn’t, but homicidal thoughts did cross my mind. According to him, the witches are at the Grim. At least for tonight. Shorty said they moved locations all the time.”
“Isis, please tell me you don’t trust that boy. He already set you up once.” Bartholomew was not happy.
“I don’t know what to think when it comes to Angelito. He didn’t actually ask me anything. He’s supposed to be heading that way after work. I would like to check it out before he gets there. If the prisoners are there, maybe
