Free Thrilled To Death by Jennifer Apodaca

for?
    It wasn’t good, whatever it was. I tried to assess the situation and decide what to do.
    Shane stepped back, and both dogs moved with him. “Come in. Let’s get this show on the road.”
    I hesitated, but Grandpa put away his switchblade, stepped up onto the built-in ladder, and went inside.
    The two Dobermans watched him with interest.
    Then they turned to look at me.
    I had visions of them weighing and measuring in their doggy brains and deciding that I had more meat than Grandpa. Plus I was already bleeding; did they smell blood? Some deep dread had me press the thin cut on the back of my hand into my skirt to staunch the flow of blood. Repressing a shiver, I had no choice but to follow Grandpa into the motor home. I wasn’t going to leave him alone with Shane and the dogs.
    It was incredible. There was a bedroom/bath through an opened door in the back. The front was the cab. In the center was a combination kitchen and living space, complete with a microwave and a big-screen TV. There was a video game frozen on the huge screen.
    Sheesh, whatever happened to camping in a tent and watching the stars at night?
    â€œSit down.” Shane indicated the cream-colored leather couch. He took a leather captain’s chair. He made a move with his hand, and both dogs lay down at his feet.
    I turned back to look at Shane. “What do you want with Grandpa?”
    â€œTo have a little chat. Why don’t you sit down?”
    I looked at the dogs again. Would Shane stop us from trying to leave? Very slowly, I lowered to the leather couch and realized that we were in a situation that I couldn’t control. Gabe would have a lot to say about that.
    If we ever got out of here, and if I ever chose to tell him.
    â€œNow, here’s the deal.” Shane dismissed me to look at Grandpa. “Someone has sent a hit man after me. You are going to use your access to the Triple M network to find out who that is and you’re going to get the hit called off. Then you are going to tell me the name of the magician who thought he could have me killed.”
    Grandpa shifted on the couch and said, “Why would I help you?”
    Shane didn’t move a muscle. “You will.”
    Both dogs picked up their heads and watched us.
    The silence was painful and laced with uneasiness. I looked at Grandpa next to me. He studied Shane for long seconds, then his shoulders came down a fraction of an inch. He seemed to have accepted something I couldn’t grasp, then said, “Why do you think a magician sent a hit man after you?”
    Shane’s face hardened, his gray eyes narrowing. “It’s very simple—once I set the dogs on the hit man, he screamed out, ‘Damn magician never said anything about dogs!’ And the only threats I’ve gotten have all come from magicians. Your little e-mail was nothing compared to some of the threats I’ve had. I’d find the bastard myself, but you cut off my access to the Triple M when you tossed me out.”
    My first thought was that Rosy was right—Shane did have a long memory. Then I realized that Vance had held back information from us. He’d never said that the supposed hit man had said something about magicians. I looked down to see my hand was still bleeding and pulled a ruffle of my jean skirt over it to apply more pressure. Vance and I were going to have a talk. He was endangering my grandfather by not telling us everything.
    Of course, Grandpa hadn’t told him everything either.
    Grandpa’s next words brought me back to the present.
    â€œYou brought that on yourself, Shane. You betrayed all of us.”
    â€œAnd you are a sentimental and foolish old man. I figured out how to turn a simple skill, basically party tricks, into a fortune. And someone in your beloved brotherhood of magicians is trying to have me murdered. Either you find out who it is or I will give that detective all the proof he needs to destroy