“I’m on call. My job is like that. Anyway, I went to that specialty grocery store that just opened on Fifth Street. They have an amazing deli. The egg salad has lots of mayo, and the tuna salad is full of celery.”
“I know the store you’re talking about. They make their own terrine out of olives and baloney. It’s awesome.”
“Yeah, so I’m in there, and I’m walking around and what do I see? Lizzy’s Cookies! I’m sure you know all about this, but I was excited. These are my favorite cookies. Mint chocolate chip.” He handed me a bag. “And now I can buy them at the grocery store!”
I pulled a packet of cookies out of the bag. They had the Ammon Enterprises logo on them. In small black letters under the large black and gold logo it said LIZZY’S COOKIES. I opened the packet and tried one.
“This is great,” I said. “These are my cookies all right.”
Except I didn’t feel great. I felt deflated. Like someone had let all the air out of my balloon. I’d given away my cookie recipe to a man who was trying to turn into a demon. I read the ingredients label. Red dye number seventeen and something I couldn’t pronounce. If I stabbed myself in the eye with the butcher knife it would be less painful.
“There were a bunch of other Lizzy’s Cookies there, too, but I only bought these,” Nergal said. “They were pricey, and coroners don’t make all that much money.”
I led him into the kitchen, cracked open a bottle of red wine, and poured out two glasses. I heard the front door open and close, Carl raced in, and Diesel followed.
“Theodore brought me cookies,” I told Diesel.
“They’re Lizzy’s Cookies,” Nergal said. “I found them in the grocery store.”
Diesel took a cookie from the bag and ate it. “Yep, they’re Lizzy’s Cookies all right.” He looked over at me. “No wonder you’re drinking.”
“We’re celebrating,” I said.
Diesel grinned. “I bet.”
Nergal’s phone buzzed with a text message.
“Jeez,” he said. “They’re dropping like flies today. I have to go.”
I added a couple of my chocolate peanut butter chip cookies to his bag and handed it back to him. “Thanks for stopping by to show this to me,” I said. “We’ll have to get together sometime when you’re not on call.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Nergal said. “I bet you have all sorts of fun stories about your adventures to save the world and everything.”
I closed the door after him and drained my wine glass. “He’s going to get another text tonight,” I said to Diesel, “because I’m going to kill Ammon.”
“Ammon didn’t waste any time getting these cookies into production.”
“They have artificial ingredients! He added coloring and preservatives.”
“No one will notice. The writing on the bag was very small. It’s the American way.”
“It’s not the American way. The American way is to have quality and purity.”
Diesel refilled my wine glass. “I like your thinking,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
“Steak and potatoes.”
“I really like your thinking.”
I went to the kitchen, turned the oven on, and put the potatoes in.
“Would you still like me if I couldn’t cook?”
“Yeah, you’re cute. Cooking is the icing on the cupcake.”
“Okay, suppose I wasn’t cute. Suppose I was fat and ugly. Would you like me then?”
“Let me get this straight. You can’t cook and you’re fat and ugly?”