“You couldn’t afford them.”
“That must have been nice for you. Me being dead, you didn’t have to pay my salary all this time.”
“But I have been paying it. To Candy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really never read the paperwork when I put you on retainer, did you?”
“Not a word.”
He sets down the glass.
“Aside from health insurance, which it looks like you could use right now, there was a wrongful-death provision. Audsley Ishii had been an employee of the Augur’s office. Even though he’d been dismissed, he killed you over a disagreement that stemmed from that job. When he killed you, it initiated the wrongful-death payout. Candy, being the closest thing you have to a next of kin, has been getting your salary the whole time you’ve been gone.”
I study his face, and this time I’m sure. Abbot is telling the truth.
I say, “Thanks. You could have been a bastard about it, but you weren’t. I appreciate that.”
Abbot picks up his glass.
“We had a deal and I honor my deals. Now that you’re back, I’ll start the paperwork to reroute the money to the account we set up for you.”
Maybe this is part of what Kasabian meant when he said they’d been doing great without me. Having my Sub Rosa money without me around to break things or bring trouble down on the store could be one of the things that helped turn the store around.
I have a little more bourbon and think.
“Don’t do it,” I tell him. “Keep sending her the money. I only have a day or so before I might die again. She can use the money more than me.”
“If you don’t die, do you have any of your own money?”
“Not a cent.”
“Do you have a place to live?”
“The bus station is a place.”
Abbot leans forward again.
“We have an apartment near Universal City that we keep for out-of-town dignitaries. You can use it until we figure out what to do with you.”
“What do I need an apartment for? I just told you I’m probably going to be dead soon.”
Abbot puts his hands on the table.
“Don’t talk like that. We’ll figure something out. I have the best magicians, the best necromancers, the best of everything at my disposal. What kind of spell did they use to bring you back?”
“I don’t know. No one will tell me. But it’s supposed to be pretty obscure.”
“That’s not much to work with. But I’ll get people looking into it. If you find out anything, get in touch as soon as possible. You still have my phone number?”
“Yeah. But why are you doing this? You don’t owe me anything.”
He looks at me hard.
“Is it so inconceivable that someone might do something for you not because they owe you something but because they simply want to?”
“Yeah. It’s a little weird.”