Page 4

"A cop can still kidnap a kid, T."

"Accurate. I'll text her. She's cool." The sound of rattling keys made it through the line. "Thanks, Jags."

"All good. I got the kid. Later." I ended the call and jogged off down the street toward the dance studio.

Wolfe Dance Company wasn't far from where I landed every day, and making the detour didn't change much of my plans, save for the ones that involved crashing a private eye agency.

I pulled open the door only to find myself flooded with the sounds of classical music and strange counting. The cool air stunk of sugar and sweat, and all the things kids bring with it. A few adults waited by the glass windows that overlooked the dance floor. A bunch of six and seven-year-olds danced their hearts out while a petite woman in a leotard and cut up sweatshirt guided them. A second instructor stood in the back, helping out a few of the kids.

Reagan spotted me, and she waved frantically, a broad smile brightening her tiny face. In the purple leotard and matching slipper things, her long brown hair stood out like some sort of delicate waterfall over her little shoulders. She looked just like her mother, except in tiny form. I smirked while waving back to her, then waited in the awkward space with the bragging parental figures. I fought hard and long not to roll my eyes too much.

"Tia Jags, can we get ice cream?" was the first thing Reagan asked me when she emerged from the studio. She took my hand before I offered it, and I gave her little knuckles a squeeze.

"Nope." I glanced over my shoulder to her dance instructor who waved to me before pointing to her phone. I nodded, then looked back to the kid. "But we can get hotdogs and milkshakes. How's that sound?"

"Terrible." She giggled and hopped in place. "Let's do it."

I chuckled and led her out the door with her hand held tightly in mine. "Consider it done."

"Where's Mama?" she asked while shifting the weight of her backpack.

"She got a call for a gallery exhibit for her art. What do you think about that?"

"I think it's good. She has good art." Reagan yawned. "Are we going to see Frankie's shop?"

"Yup. But food on the way."

"From a truck?" Her voice squeaked with excitement.

"Yup." I laughed and gestured ahead of us to where the food trucks gathered outside the busy office center downtown. "Right here."

"Food from trucks is my favorite!"

"That should be a line in the national anthem."

"What's that?" She scrunched up her nose at me.

"Nothing." I chuckled and tugged her over to the vendor to place our orders.

Reagan chattered my ear off, asking me ten-billion questions before we arrived at the tattoo studio. In the early evening, it wasn't very busy yet. Wyatt covered the front desk in Tatiana's absence and kicked around a hacky sack while standing there. I shook my head at him when the beanbag-filled ball landed on top of his coffee cup and tipped it over.

"Frankie's gonna kill you," I said, smirking as he scrambled for napkins.

"Sh'up, Jags," he muttered while cleaning up. "Hey, kiddo." He addressed Reagan and tossed her a wink. "Can I have some of that milkshake?"

"No way. You have germs," she said, and took a slurpy draw on the straw.

We both burst out laughing at the same time that Frankie appeared from the back room. Her thick boots thudded on the tiled floor, announcing her presences as usual, and the neon tips of her mohawk preceded the rest of her.

"What are you fu—" she paused mid-sentence and shifted to— "Fartheads doing?" She high-fived Reagan on the way past. "Sup, kid?"

"Sup, Frankie." Reagan hopped up to sit on a vacant tattoo chair. "Where are everyone else?"

"They'll be here soon." Frankie stopped in front of her and the two shared their usual handshake greeting that ended in a finger snap and a cheek kiss. "Looks like we got you while she's out."

"Technically, Jags got me so kinda." Reagan grinned and swung her feet, now clad in a pair of slip-on fluffy winter boots even though it was June.

"Wise butt." Frankie scowled at her, then messed up her hair before turning to me. "Nikki and Teeg will be here later. Full house tonight."