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picture.” His lips twitched. “I texted you earlier, but all I got in response was a smiley face flicking me off with one hand while drinking coffee from a mug in the other.”
    Eyes wide, I tried for innocence. “My thumb must have slipped.”
    “I figured.”
    “You should have texted me back.”
    “And risk your thumb slipping again?”
    I lifted my chin like the thought never would have crossed my mind.
    “I had to check in at the office and got slapped with some paperwork while I was there. By the time I called, your phone was punting me straight to voicemail so I got Mable to tell me which cases she pulled for you.” His gaze touched on the container. “You weren’t at the quarry looking for Burke, so I drove out here.”
    “I turned off my phone.” Fae hearing being what it was, I preferred scouting situations without the risk of a poorly timed ring or buzz. It was a habit I had picked up from him, actually.
    “No one else has gotten a house call from this guy. Whoever we’re after knows you’re a death-touched fae now.” He hesitated. “He’s probably following you around hoping you’ll drop someone else.”
    I grimaced. Great. My own personal scavenger.
    “Until we draw a bead on this guy, I don’t want you following up on any leads without backup, okay?”
    “Sure.” As long as he kept off Mom’s lawn. “No problem.”
    “Grab my hand.” He stuck out his arm. “I’ll pull you out.”
    “I don’t need your help.” I kept wading toward the closest edge. “It’s not that deep.”
    “Suit yourself.” He released his grip. A second later his soles smacked the ground.
    With no one to watch me humiliate myself, I belly-flopped onto the sticky cans to give my body as much surface as possible, then wriggled my way forward until my fingertips brushed warm metal. I pulled myself up the side of the container and swung one leg over its lip and then the other.
    When I let go and fell, instead of hitting pavement, I hit a very warm body.
    “Watch that last step.” Shaw pressed me against his chest. “It’s a doozy.”
    I squirmed, which got me exactly nowhere. “Put me down.”
    “All you had to do was ask.” He set me on my feet, his hand sliding through my hair. “Hold still and let me...” He flashed a metal tab with a few black strands dangling from it. “There we go.” He glanced around the vacant parking lot. “So, you’re here for Mathew Davis.”
    I didn’t like the glint in his eye when I nodded a confirmation.
    “A case brought me out two years ago.” He shook his head. “A hob died here.”
    Nothing for it, I had to ask. “How?”
    “Davis’s version of the story was the guy fell into the compacter. The hob’s wife saw it happen, and she’s the one who called the conclave. She said Davis pushed the guy. They’d been playing that weird-ass form of hobgoblin polo, and Davis’s mount—her husband—stumbled over a mallet handle and they face planted. Davis lost the match and, according to her, took the loss out on her husband.”
    I frowned. “That wasn’t in his file.”
    “Davis was cleared of all charges.” Shaw seemed unsurprised. “According to his file, he has no priors. But two guys I worked with at the time had each been out here for minor disturbances.”
    That meant I could kiss my easy money goodbye. “I appreciate the heads-up.”
    The straightforward approach had ended with me tossed out on my ass in front of Shaw, who had taught me better, which made the incident ten times more humiliating. Time to reevaluate.
    The edge of his lips curved in anticipation of a smile. “I can help, if you want.”
    “That’s all right.” I dusted myself off. “I can take it from here.”
    I took it all right. Three more times I entered the building and three more times the hobs booted me out the door. By the time I stomped across the parking lot to where Shaw sat in the bright cab of his mammoth truck, the fingers on my left hand were itching. When I