Always with the convicted murderer rap. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice tainted with suspicion.

“I need to find Reyes as much as you do, or, well, Uncle Bob. You help me and I’ll help you.”

“Why?” he asked, still suspicious. You’d think I never kept up my side of the bargain. I almost always, nigh 100 percent of the time, tried really hard to attempt to hold up my side of any bargain in any given situation.

Now for the hard part, the yeah-I-know-he-was-convicted-of-murder-and-is-an-entity-who-was-born-of-pure-evil-but-deep-down-inside-he’s-really-a-good-guy part. “What all did Uncle Bob tell you about Reyes?”

Garrett’s brows knitted in thought, his gray eyes startling against his dark skin. “Well, in a nutshell, he told me Farrow has been a resident of the Penitentiary of New Mexico for the last ten years for the brutal murder of his own father until he was accidently shot in the head trying to save another inmate and was in a coma for a month, only to magically wake up and walk right out of the long-term-care unit without anyone the wiser.”

I let that soak in before commenting. “Okay, good start. But there’s a lot my uncle doesn’t know.”

With mouth tilting to the side in doubt, he asked, “Which would be?”

Great. He was reverting back to Garrett the Skeptic Skiptracer. “Reyes Farrow has saved my life on several occasions. And he continues to do so.”

“Really?” he said, the sarcasm in his tone undeniable. This was not going to be an easy sell.

“Yes, really.” A car behind me wanting the parking space we were standing in honked. I headed toward the street again.

“A man convicted of murder saves you?”

“Yes.” When we reached the sidewalk, I stopped and gave him my full attention. “And he’s a supernatural being.”

His mouth did that tilty thing again, but he decided to humor me. “You mean like ghost supernatural or superhero supernatural?”

Good question. “A little of both, actually.”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I don’t have time to go into all the details,” I said, charging forward. “Can you do something crazy for once in your life that goes against every bone in your body and trust me on this one?”

After a long moment, he offered a reluctant nod.

“Good, because I need to find him ay-sap.”

I started for my apartment. Clean jeans were a must for any private investigator. And for said private investigator’s sanity.

“Wait.”

“Nope. Follow.”

“Okay,” he said, jogging to catch up. He fell in step beside me. “So, Farrow is supernatural? You mean like you? He’s a grim reaper?”

His question surprised me. I didn’t think he’d believed a word I told him during our last sit-down. The one where he tried really hard to open his mind and listen to what I had to say instead of mocking me repeatedly. “He’s not a grim reaper. He’s sort of more.”

“How much more?” Suspicion suddenly edged his voice.

“He’s a man, Swopes, just like you. Only, like, with superpowers.”

“What kind of superpowers?”

I paused long enough to glower at him. “Would you stop with the twenty questions?”

“I just want to know what I’m up against.”

“Look, I just need you to put out some feelers. You know, ask around, see if anyone has heard anything, I don’t know, strange.”

“Fine. I just have one more question.”

“Okay.”

His gaze intensified. “How do I kill it?” he asked.

Well, that wasn’t very nice. All this time, I’d been hoping evolution had eroded the male’s thirst for blood. Apparently not. “You don’t,” I said, turning back to continue my trek. I was brought up short when a dark fog, thick and undulating, materialized into a man in front of me.

Reyes stood blocking my path, a peculiar kind of anger glistening in his mahogany eyes. “What are you doing, Dutch?” he asked, his voice soft, menacing.

Garrett had taken a step then stopped again. He glanced at me and then down the street, trying to figure out what I was looking at.

I decided to ignore both his curiosity and Reyes’s anger for the moment. “Are you still alive?”

He took an intimidating step closer, heat radiating from his body in waves. “Unfortunately. What are you doing?”

“Charles, what’s up?” Garrett asked, alarmed.

Relief flooded through me with Reyes’s admission. He could die at any moment, and I was worried it might already have happened. I tried to breathe easier, but the palpability of his anger made that difficult. I should have known he was still alive. He wouldn’t have been so angry if not. Who cares if I find his body once it has passed? The mere thought tightened my chest even more.

My face must have shown my alarm. Garrett leaned into me. “Charley, what’s going on?”

Reyes glanced at him then back at me. “Tell it to shut up.”

And that was just rude. These boys were not playing well together at all. Reyes had grown jealous of Garrett without reason. There was nothing whatsoever between us. “He’s not an it, Reyes,” I said, practically inviting him to argue. “He’s the best skiptracer in the state, and he’s going to help me find you.” The gauntlet I threw at him made me sound like a third grader on a playground challenging the school bully to a showdown. Swings. Three o’clock.