“If you don’t mind my asking, old chap, is there any particular reason you’re being so obstinate over a simple request?”
Tananda gave me one of her “stay out of this” looks, but Weasel didn’t seem to mind the interruption.
“Are you kidding?” he said. “Maybe you weren’t listening, but I owe this guy … a lot more than just paying back a loan. He gave me a chance to start over when everybody else had written me off. I’m supposed to show my appreciation by setting a couple of goons on his trail?”
“Goons?”
She said it very softly, but I don’t think anyone in the room mistook Tananda’s meaning. In fact, a few of her earlier playmates who were still conscious started crawling toward the door in an effort to put more distance between themselves and the pending explosion.
Weasel, however, remained uncowed.
“Yeah, goons. What happened in here a few minutes ago? An ice-cream social?”
“He’s got you there, little sister.”
That brought her head around with a snap.
“Shutup, Chumley!” she snarled. “This is my assignment. Remember?”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. I do think Weasel has a point, though. You really don’t give the impression of someone who wants a peaceful chat.”
At first I thought she was going to go for my throat. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“Point taken,” she said, releasing her grip. “Weasel, I really just want to talk to this guy Hoos. No rough stuff, I promise.”
The bartender pursed his lips.
“I don’t know, Tananda. I’d like to believe you. I suppose if Chumley says it’s on the up-and-up …”