Top Secret Twenty-One (31 page)

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Authors: Janet Evanovich

BOOK: Top Secret Twenty-One
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“We did,” I said. “Josh works in the museum, and he was giving us an after-hours tour. I touched the cage, and it came crashing down.”

“And you are who?”

“Lizzy Tucker,” I said. “I’m a pastry chef at Dazzle’s Bakery.”

His eyes widened. “Do you make the red velvet cupcakes?”

“I do.”

“I
love
those cupcakes!”

Nergal went back to examining the Slim Jim, and Glo elbowed me. “He loves your cupcakes,” she said.

“I heard.”

She leaned close. “He’s cute!” she whispered.

“And?”

“He’s not wearing a wedding ring.”

“And?”

“Neither are you.”

“I don’t think he’s my type,” I told Glo.

“Okay, so he examines dead people all day,” Glo said. “Nobody’s perfect. He probably has all kinds of interesting hobbies.”

“Excuse me,” I said to Nergal. “Can we go now?”

“Of course,” he said, “but don’t leave town.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said. “I’m addicted to your cupcakes.”

Glo elbowed me again. “I think he might be flirting with you,” she whispered.

“It’s the cupcakes,” I said. “It has nothing to do with me. I’m leaving.”

“I can’t leave,” Josh said. “I have to stay to lock up the museum.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Glo said to Josh. “This is just like one of those
CSI
shows.”

I gave everyone a wave goodbye and walked out of the museum into the warm July night. The streetlights cast little pools of light onto the shadowy sidewalk. One of the lights flickered just as I reached it, blinking out twice before flaring back to life, brighter than ever.

I felt a chill ripple down my spine and goose-bumps erupt on my arms when a man appeared under the streetlight. He was deadly handsome in a scary sexy-vampire sort of way. He had pale skin, piercing dark eyes, and shoulder-length raven-black hair that was swept back from his face. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with a black dress shirt. I knew him, and there had been times when I’d thought his soul might be black as well. His name is Gerwulf Grimoire. Mostly known as Wulf. He entered my life shortly after I moved to the North Shore. He’d introduced himself, touched his fingertip to the back of my hand, and left a burn mark. The scar is still there.

“Miss Tucker,” he said. “We meet again.”

“Nice to see you, Wulf.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Wulf said, “but I appreciate the lie. I’m here to relieve you of the coin.”

“What coin? What are you talking about?”

Wulf studied me for a beat. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“I assume you’re not looking for a nickel or a dime.”

“Hardly. You’ll know soon enough about the coin. I’m sure my cousin Diesel is looking for it as well and will enlist your aid. If you’re smart, you won’t get involved. Consider this a warning.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Another lie.

“I’m the least of your worries,” Wulf said.

There was a
pop
and a puff of smoke, and Wulf was gone. Vanished.

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