Every Which Way But Dead. Ким Харрисон
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I said, and he nodded, returning everything to his backpack and zipping it up.
“It’s a necessity in my line of work.” Standing, he smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan.”
“No sweat.” My thoughts were jumbled. I couldn’t decide if I was going to tell Jenks or not. My gaze returned to David as I realized he was holding out his card. I took it, wondering.
“Since I’ve got you here,” he said, moving so I wasn’t looking into the sun to see him, “if you’re interested in getting a better rate on your insurance—”
I sighed and let the card fall. What a weenie.
He chuckled, gracefully swooping to pick it up. “I get my health and hospitalization insurance for two fifty a month through my union.”
Suddenly, I was interested. “Runners are almost uninsurable.”
“True.” He pulled a black nylon jacket out of his backpack and put it on. “So are field insurance adjusters. But since there are so few of us compared to the pencil pushers that make up the bulk of the company, we get a good rate. Union dues are one fifty a year. It gets you a discount on your insurance needs, car rentals, and all the steak you can eat at the yearly picnic.”
That was too good to believe. “Why?” I asked, taking the card back.
He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “My partner retired last year. I need someone.”
My mouth opened in understanding. He thought I wanted to be an insurance adjuster? Oh, ple-e-e-e-ease. “Sorry. I’ve already got a job,” I said, snickering.
David made an exasperated noise. “No. You misunderstand. I don’t want a partner. I’ve driven off all the interns they’ve saddled me with, and everyone else knows better than to try. I’ve got two months to find someone, or they’re going to shave my tail. I like my job, and I’m good at it, but I don’t want a partner.” He hesitated, his sharp gaze scanning the area behind me with professional intentness. “I work alone. You sign the paper, you belong to the union, you get a discount on your insurance, you never see me but for the yearly picnic, where we act chummy and do the three-legged race. I help you; you help me.”
I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from rising, and I shifted my attention from him to the card in my grip. Four hundred dollars less a month sounded great. And I’d be willing to bet they could beat what I was paying for my car insurance, too. Tempted, I asked, “What kind of hospitalization do you have?”
His thin lips curled up in a smile to show a hint of small teeth. “Silver Cross.”
My head bobbed. It was designed for Weres, but it was flexible enough to work. A broken bone is a broken bone. “So,” I drawled, leaning back, “what’s the catch?”
His grin widened. “Your salary is deferred to me, as I’m the one doing all the work.”
Ahhhh, I thought. He would get two salaries. This was a scam if I ever heard one. Smirking, I handed him his card back. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
David made a disappointed sound, backing up with his card. “You can’t blame me for trying. It was my old partner’s suggestion, actually. I should have known you wouldn’t go for it.” He hesitated. “Your backup really ate that fish?”
I nodded, going depressed thinking about it. ‘Least I got a car out of it first.
“Well …” He set the card down beside me, snapping it into the concrete. “Give me a call if you change your mind. The extension on the card will get you past my secretary. When I’m not in the field, I’m in the office from three to midnight. I might consider taking you on as an apprentice for real. My last partner was a witch, and you look like you have some chutzpah.”
“Thanks,” I said snidely.
“It’s not as boring as it looks. And safer than what you’re doing now. Maybe after you get beat up a few more times you’ll change your mind.”
I wondered if this guy was for real. “I don’t work for people. I work for myself.”
Nodding, he casually touched his head in a loose salute before he turned and walked away. I pulled myself straight as his trim figure slipped past the gate. He got in a gray two-seater across the lot from my little red car and drove off. I cringed, recognizing it and realizing he had watched Nick and me yesterday.
My butt was frozen from sitting on the concrete when I stood. I picked up his card, tearing it in half and going to a trash can, but as I held the ripped pieces over the hole, I hesitated. Slowly, I put them in my pocket.
An insurance adjuster? a small voice in my head mocked. Grimacing, I took the pieces out and dropped them in the can. Work for someone else again? No. Never.
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