Page 171 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Seymour thinks he’s dead. Obviously your interaction voids that assumption.”

“Jesus.” Indy whipped out his phone. “You are such an asshole.”

Mr. Heiss turned toward Indy. “And what do you think you’re doing now?”

“Uh, telling my new friend that his father is not dead?”

Mr. Heiss gently put his hand over Indy’s screen. “And what proof do you have to offer him? What evidence do you have?”

Indy stared. “My eyeballs?”

“Do you not think it would be more upsetting to be told your father is suddenly alive with no proof and zero explanation?” Mr. Heiss reached back to the desk for more papers to show Indy. “Some of this involves a funeral home. The very one that buried Mr. Madison.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have a vested interest in powerful witches.” Mr. Heiss set the paperwork back down. “Allow me to make a suggestion. Wait until I have properly taken control of this dump and let us see what other evidence we can find, hmm? You will be able to give your friend actual information instead of shocking him with an upsetting revelation with no recourse.”

Indy frowned and narrowed his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s actually a really nice thing to say. Hence the suspicion.”

“Let’s go.” Mr. Heiss offered his arm.

“Wait? We’re not going to look around anymore?” Indy gestured at the multiple filing cabinets. “What about those?”

“Time to leave.”

“There could be a body.”

“In the filing cabinet?” Mr. Heiss actually laughed as he led Indy out.

“Hey, anything is possible if you cut it in enough pieces.”

Mr. Heiss brought Indy back downstairs, cutting through the crowd to head back toward the bar where they’d last seen Gammy. The bouncer was gone and now the door there was open. Mr. Heiss kept walking like he owned the place—which, technically, he did—and didn’t stop until they were through the door and he could close it behind them.

It was a hallway with three doors, two on the right and one at the very end. Tanze and Underwood were just emerging from the door on the right, both of them covered in blood. Tanze licked some from Underwood’s cheek while Underwood had a handkerchief to dab at Tanze.

Adorable serial killers.

So cute.

Azazel stood at the end of the hallway by the last door. His suit was a bit rumpled, but otherwise he seemed fine. He grinned a bit, saying, “That old lady is a fucking beast at wards.”

“And where is the old lady now?” Mr. Heiss asked.

“Downstairs. There’s some sort of basement situation, maybe where the old fuel tanks and shit were.”

“What do we have up here?” Mr. Heiss asked briskly.

“The drugs,” Underwood replied. “They’re storing them here, but never fear. Security has been taken care of already. Through that door is the facility proper where they are packaging the pills.”

“Nyp? Mr. Mitternacht?”

“No sign of them. No sign of anybody to be—”

“Fuck.” Mr. Heiss growled in frustration, stalking toward the door to the facility.