“A pharmacy.”
Diesel found one on Massachusetts Avenue. He pulled to the curb, gave Hatchet his sword back, and watched him get out of the SUV.
“Do you want me to wait?” Diesel asked.
“Nay. I will find my own way.”
Diesel slipped back into traffic, continued down Massachusetts, and called Wulf.
“Yes,” Wulf said.
“Hey, cuz, just wanted you to know Hatchet is in the CVS in Cambridge. He’s getting ointment for a handprint burn on his neck. And he’s without transportation. Someone stole his car.”
There was a silent pause and a disconnect.
“Why are you helping Hatchet? Isn’t he the enemy?” I asked Diesel.
“Yes, but it annoys Wulf when I’m nice to Hatchet. And I need to protect Hatchet to some degree. Wulf would be more determined to capture you if he didn’t have Hatchet.”
“We’re missing something with Tichy. I don’t feel like we’re even close.”
“The history of Tichy persuades when innocence prevails,” Diesel said.
“Maybe we’re not innocent enough.”
“That’s a given for me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Midway through the morning, the bell over the bakery’s front door jingled and Hatchet walked in. I was filling one of the large wire breadbaskets in the front of the shop, and Glo was helping a woman select several meat pies. We all gave a start when we saw Hatchet. His face and hands were dabbed with calamine lotion, his scraggly hair was greasy, and he was scratching like a dog with a flea infestation.
“You,” he said, pointing to the woman buying meat pies. “Step aside. I need to speak to the witch.”
The woman looked at Glo. “Are you a witch?”
“Not exactly,” Glo said. “I think I might have some latent wizard abilities, and there’s a good possibility my broom is enchanted, but I’m pretty sure I’m not a witch.”
Hatchet narrowed his eyes. “What part of step aside did thee not hear?” he said to the woman.
“I was here first,” the woman said.
Hatchet drew his sword. “Madam, I have hives in dark places, my balls are on fire, and I have little patience. Wouldst you die for your place in line?”
“Hey,” Glo said. “You can’t talk to our customers like that.”
“Do something, witch. Relieve this itch or I will smite thee down. I will cleave thee in two.”
The woman turned and ran out of the store.
Clara was in the doorway. “What’s going on out here?”
“Hatchet threw a hissy fit and chased Glo’s customer away,” I said.
Clara squinted at Hatchet. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Hives,” I said. “The farting stopped, but now he has hives.”
“Omigosh,” Glo said. “Do you suppose it could be the ground salamander tail?”