I hoped.

“Sparagmos told you where it is,” Brett said, his disbelief obvious.

“Of course he did,” Jenks said, breaking his silence. “We’ve got it, and you don’t.”

Na, na, na, na-a-a-a, na. “I can put my hands on it,” I amended, nudging Jenks’s foot. Shut up, Jenks. I liked him better quiet. This was the last time we took a hostage.

Brett looked relaxed even though his one hand was cuffed under the table. Behind him, kids were fighting, hurting my ears. “Give it to me,” he said. “I’ll take it to Mr. Vincent and convince him to leave you alone.”

Jenks jerked into motion, reaching for Brett. The Were blocked it. Someone hit a coffee and it spilled. Gasping, I stood when it threatened to run into my lap. “Damn it, Jenks!” I swore, pulling every eye to us. “What in hell are you doing?”

The restaurant was abruptly silent. A unified, “Ooooh,” rose from the ball pit, and I flushed. Clear in the silence, the person coming over the loudspeaker wanted to know if he could substitute bottled water for the pop. I winced apologetically to the offended mothers speaking in hushed voices to their soccer-mom friends. “Sorry,” I muttered. I sat down, and the level of noise resumed. Crap. That had been my coffee.

“You are in no position to be making deals or demands,” Jenks said nastily as people turned away. “And if you or your mange-ridden curs touch her, you’ll find everyone you care about dead one morning.”

Brett’s face went red.

“Just stop it,” I griped, thinking this wasn’t the way to arrange a cease-fire. But it told me I was right that Brett had to placate Walter with something to ease his return into the pack. Brett was in trouble; it wasn’t only Jenks who wanted to kill him.

The small man’s expression went sour and he settled back, clearly a lot more cautious now that he knew how fast Jenks could move. Heck, it impressed me.

“Look,” I said, wedging a wad of napkins out of the dispenser and mopping up my coffee. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jenks had done it intentionally. “All I want is Nick free from your reprisals. You can take Walter the stinking statue as far as I’m concerned.”

Brett’s dark eyes went suspicious. “You still expect me to believe you aren’t working for someone and that you risked your life for…for him?”

My lips curled into a sour smile. “Don’t call me stupid,” I warned him. Jenks pushed the tea at me, and I ignored it. “I need a day to get the statue here,” I lied. “A day to get it here and tie a pretty ribbon around it for you.”

The tiny clink of his cuffs made Brett’s eyes twitch. “You’re going to give it to me,” he said flatly.

I wrapped my fingers around my foam cup to hide their trembling. “Yup. And it was your idea too.”

Jenks looked at me in bewilderment, and I smiled. “I want you to back off. All of you,” I added, squeezing the tea bag to make a thin rivulet of red drain into the cup. I was thirsty, and if I made for that second coffee, Jenks would probably spill it too. “I don’t need to leave town to get it. I can have it here by sunset tomorrow. Watch us if you want, but one sniff I think is too close and the exchange is off and we are gone.” I leaned over my tea. “Jenks and I cleaned your clocks with a pipe and some stupid sleepy-time charms. You want to risk finding out what we’re really capable of when all you have to do is wait a lousy thirty-six hours?”