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which
anagram you hack into, just get me something.” Dagger punched the
END button. “I don’t like the fact that this guy was looking for
me.”
    “ Who else would have given out our
address?” Sara asked. “If Padre claims he didn’t and you aren’t
listed in the phone book, who else besides Simon and
Skizzy?”
    Dagger thought about that for several
seconds, then swung a U-turn on a busy downtown street eliciting
numerous horn blasts.
    The Hideaway was a shot-and-beer joint.
Dagger had lived in a small apartment above the bar when he first
arrived in town. He had operated his P.I. business out of that
apartment and it was where he had first met Sara. She had walked in
with information about the murder of an undercover cop. At the time
he didn’t know how she obtained her information, didn’t know about
her unique abilities, but he followed up on her leads and
discovered a jewelry and art theft ring based inside the Cedar
Point Police Department. In the melee, a wolf had been injured, its
leg shot off. And just as Dagger was preparing to put a bullet in
the wolf ’s head to end its misery, the strangest thing happened.
Instead of a wolf, what was lying at his feet was Sara. To say he
was shocked was putting it mildly. But his biggest shock came later
as Sara lay on her grandmother’s bed. Sara’s leg had grown
back.
    Dagger fingered his black cord necklace. He
could feel the turquoise stones that served as the eyes in the wolf
head pendant and remembered the filmy eyes of Ada, Sara’s
grandmother who had looked more like a great-great-grandmother. She
had been the only family Sara had left and seemed relieved that
someone else knew of Sara’s gift. Ada promptly died the next day
leaving the necklace and a note pleading for Dagger to watch out
for her granddaughter, a young woman who had barely left the
confines of their reservation land, and was as much afraid of
humans as the wolf and hawk were. Dagger had changed all that. Sara
now knew self-defense and could shoot a gun as well as he
could.
    “ What are you smiling at?” Sara asked,
her smile radiating from the passenger seat.
    “ Just wondering how many more gray
hairs we gave Padre.” He parked the Navigator at the curb and they
slammed out of the vehicle.
    The Hideaway smelled of beer and sweat. If
the wood floor ever got a washing it would probably disintegrate.
Toby Keith’s voice oozed from the juke box talking about loving
this bar. Two men swaying at the end of the chipped and bruised bar
were bellowing along with Toby. Men playing pool stopped to leer at
Sara, their cue sticks hovering over the pool table.
    “ Well, well. Slumming, Dagger?” Casey
stood behind the bar looking more like a bouncer gone to seed. What
might have once been a muscular forty-eight-inch chest had given
way to beer and gravity and hung over his belt like yeast-raised
bread.
    “ Your place a slum? Why, it’s listed at
the Visitors’ Bureau as one of the top ten places to see in Cedar
Point.”
    “ Ha ha.” Casey turned his attention to
Sara. There were enough gaps in his teeth to release a whistle
every time he breathed. He made a futile attempt at pulling down
his Chicago Cubs tee shirt but it didn’t help to hide his gut.
Tattoos resembling barbed wire circled each of his flabby
biceps.
    “ Who’s this? Thought you were engaged
to the blonde bitch.”
    “ That ended a long time ago. This is
Sara Morningsky. She’s my business partner.”
    Casey laughed. “That what they call them
these days?”
    “ Excuse me?” Sara’s right eyebrow
jutted sharply. Faster than the bar owner could blink, Sara reached
into her purse and pulled out a Kel-Tec P32. “Want to clarify
that?”
    Casey’s eyes appeared crossed as they focused
on the weapon. He slowly raised his hands. The men in the bar
stopped crooning. Even Toby Keith got the hint as his song
ended.
    “ Sorry. No harm intended. Just having a
little fun is all.” Casey looked to Dagger. “Can I lower my