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something I’d never seen before. That and the powerful earwax smell added up in my mind: Elrood couldn’t be human—he had to be an elf.
    Bernie unfolded Suzie’s printout. “This is a list of Plumpy’s victims. You’re not on it.”
    â€œWhy the hell would I be?” Elrood’s voice, sort of human since our meet up here at Plumpy’s, was now squeaking back up into elfish territory. Chet the Jet, way ahead of the curve! No time now for the story of the night Bernie and I for a longish moment on a mountain curve were actually ahead of the Porsche, driverless behind us but coming up fast.
    Bernie nodded. “That would be too convenient. But who’d have it in for Plumpy the most?”
    Closer and closer together came Elrood’s eyes. I couldn’t bear to watch.
    â€œSomeone on this list, correct? And here you are going over Plumpy’s crib. So is it possible there’s some connection between you and any of these people?” Bernie gave the printout a little wave. “How about I start at the top? Four hundred thirteen thousand seven hundred one dollars—less ten thousand for a putter we won’t go into now—owed to Ms. Becky Simms, Two Bar Ranch, Ocotillo Springs. Know her?”
    There was a long silence. Then Elrood said, “You’re the relentless type. The world would be better off without your kind.”
    Which made less sense than anything I’d ever heard coming out of a human mouth. I reminded myself that Elrood wasn’t human, and got right back in the picture.
    â€œI’ll watch my back when you’re around,” Bernie said.
    Which also made no sense. Bernie never had to watch his back: he had me. A whole lot of nonsense was suddenly going down in Plumpy’s kitchen. I edged a bit closer to Elrood, got him within prime lunging distance.
    â€œMeanwhile,” Bernie went on, “what’s your connection with Becky Simms?”
    Elrood gave a long sigh and rubbed his face with both hands, rubbed it hard like he was trying to rub it away. Was that possible? Could he maybe rub his whole self away and pull off an escape? I let him know I was real nearby.
    â€œWhat the hell! Is he going to bite me again?”
    â€œCan’t think why,” Bernie said. “And I wouldn’t call what happened outside an actual bite.”
    â€œNo?” said Elrood, raising his pant leg. “Then where did this blood come from?”
    Bernie peered at Elrood’s leg. “You shouldn’t scratch mosquito bites.”
    â€œWe don’t have mosquitoes out here.”
    â€œAll the more reason,” Bernie said. “Back to Becky Simms.”
    Elrood sighed again. “She’s my batty old aunt. Lives with Shirley, my other batty old aunt.”
    â€œThey found out you were doing time with Plumpy?”
    Elrood nodded. “And offered me a third if I found the money.”
    â€œSo you cozied up to Plumpy inside?”
    Elrood shrugged.
    â€œAnd he actually told you the stash was here?”
    â€œNaw,” said Elrood. “But when I suggested like maybe it was,he did that stupid heh heh, heh heh laugh of his.”
    â€œHow about we take a little look-see?” Bernie said.
    â€œSuit yourself,” Elrood said. “But I’ve been over the whole place.”
----
    We wandered around Plumpy’s crib, me and Bernie—having first duct-taped Elrood to a kitchen chair, shouldn’t leave that out. Duct-taped the way we duct-tape dudes at the Little Detective Agency, meaning so they stay duct-taped.
    â€œWhat are we looking for, big guy?”
    I waited to hear.
    â€œCash, and lots of it. Cash smells.” Wow! Bernie at his best. He took some money from his wallet, held it toward me. I sniffed up the smell of money—not to learn anything, since I knew the smell very well already, but just to please Bernie. We went down the hall and into the living room. Money? I