“It could be,” I repeated lamely.
“C’mon, Skeeve. Give.”
“What?”
“Even you need more evidence than that before you go off half-cocked. What are you holding back?”
He had me. I was just afraid that he was going to find my real reason even less believable than the one I had already stated.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “If you really want to know, what finally convinced me was that Gleep doesn’t like her.”
“Gleep? You mean that stupid dragon of yours? That Gleep?”
“Gleep isn’t st…”
“Partner, your dragon doesn’t like me! That doesn’t make me the Ax!!”
“He’s never tried to fry you, either!”
That one stopped him for a moment. “He did that? He really let fly at Bunny?”
“That’s right. If Nunzio hadn’t been there …”
As if summoned by the mention of his name, the bodyguard stuck his head into the room.
“Hey, Boss! Don Bruce is here.”
“Show him in.”
“I still think you’re making a mistake,” Aahz warned, leaning against a wall.
“Maybe,” I said grimly. “With luck I’ll get Don Bruce to confirm my suspicions before I show my cards.”
“This I’ve got to see.”
“There you are, Skeeve. The boys said you wanted to see me.”
Don Bruce is the Mob’s fairy godfather. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything that wasn’t lavender, and today was no exception. His ensemble included shorts, sandals, a floppy brimmed hat, and a sports shirt with large dark purple flowers printed all over it. Maybe my wardrobe sessions with Bunny were making me overly sensitive on the subject of clothes, but his attire hardly seemed appropriate for one of the most powerful men in the Mob.