Page 8 of Making His Bones

“Oh,” I said. “To, like, entice them?”

Knoxie exhaled with relief. “Yes! Can you do it? I know you didn’t want to use your modeling skills anymore, but—“

“No, I’ll do it. Sounds like a good purpose. Will Tobiah still be there when I get off work? Ford assigned me to take this place over from Kneecap. I really should be letting those people in the door, but I have to teach myself the cash register at least.”

“Oh, yeah, we understand. Sure. Come over at seven.” The Missing Ink, Knoxie’s tattoo parlor, was only about two blocks down from the Hip Quiver.

Elektra abruptly said, “It’s okay. I should be going anyway. Thanks for your help, Gray.”

Knoxie turned on his boot heel and clomped down the hallway. I almost grabbed Elektra’s shoulders. Again. “Wait, don’t you want to take me up on my offer? Please. You’d hardly ever see me, the house is so big, but it’d feel better to know there was another human body there.”

She smiled impishly. “Well, if you put it that way . . . like you can’t live without me . . . “

“That’s it!” I pointed at her. “I can’t live without you, Miss . . . “

“Spinoza. Elektra Spinoza.”

“Miss Spinoza. I’m Gray Whaley. It’ll only take you fifteen more minutes to get to Seeker from here. But your new home will be a thousand times better than a Best Western. Here, give me your phone. I’ll enter my address.”

She withdrew her phone from a hip holster but didn’t give it to me. I had to tell her the address, and she entered it herself.

“All right. Thank you,” she said.

Man, what a smoking hot woman. She may have been ten years older than me, but I was realizing she was my better in every way. I’d have to strive hard to impress her. I was up for the challenge.

“I’ll go there first to dump off my stuff, then proceed to Seeker. Which bedroom shall I use?”

I told her, and watched her walk away. As she went under the yellow crime scene tape, a bunch of people asked her about Kneecap. She just smiled mysteriously and didn’t say a word.

I liked that. I liked the mystery about her. It made me want to crack it, for her to let me into her little mysterious world.

I didn’t see any cops, so I tore the tape from a few light poles and told everyone to come in. Everyone who wanted to shoot, that is.

“There will be no questions about Kneecap!” I shouted. “Serious shooters only!”

Man. What a bunch of phony, shallow morons.

Y