just told me he was some kind of consultant." "Private detective," he blandly replied. I blinked. "Private detective? That's what got him into so much weird trouble?" "Paranormal private detective." "Oh, that would explain you and-well, everything else." "Yes." "What's the name of this business?" "Vampire Dead-tective Agency." "Catchy." "It was Tim's idea." "It would be. So is this sleuthing business hard? Any special skills I need to learn?" "Yes." I waited with baited breath for further explanation. I nearly suffocated. "Mind telling me what they are?" I gasped. "Experience is the best teacher." "If you don't tell me something useful I'll stick voodoo pins in my own crotch," I threatened. Through our joined pain that would hurt him more than me. "Diplomacy is useful," he spoke up. "I prefer the more direct route of threats." "So I noticed." "It gets results." "So I noticed." I sighed and shrugged, but there was a mischievous smile on my face. "This is going to be a long, long relationship." "Very long," he agreed. And oh boy was it, particularly in that early adventure with the cult. . .
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