“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I double-checked the autopsy results and confirmed toxicology was negative for drugs.”

“Could have been a deal gone south,” he mused.

“Could have been,” I agreed.

“Oh, fuck it.” Cody refolded the piece of paper and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans. He grinned at me, baring his teeth. They were very white and very strong, and maybe a little more pointed than usual. The slanting sunlight of early evening caught his eyes, making them blaze to amber, gold-flecked life with a hint of green behind them. “I’m tired of this case. I’m tired of talking. Let’s have some fun for a change, Daisy Jo. Did you bring the dagger?”

“Uh-huh.” I patted my fraying satchel.

Cody beckoned. “Let’s take a look at it in my workshop.”

I followed him through his house, which was exactly what I would have predicted: small, rustic, tidy, wood flooring, and lots of plaid fabric. His workshop was in an outbuilding behind it.

As long as I was predicting, I would have guessed Cody dabbled in carpentry. I would have been wrong. “You work with leather?”

“My family collects a lot of hides,” he said dryly.

I picked up a half-finished bag from the workbench. “You make purses?”

He scowled and took it from me, setting it aside. “It’s a messenger bag, and yes. I sell them online, okay? Now, let’s see that dagger.”

Easing dauda-dagr from my satchel, I laid it on the workbench. The runes running the length of it seemed to flicker in the sunlight, while the keen edges were faintly blue. The leather-wrapped hilt was shiny with wear, but the rest of it looked like it might have been forged yesterday.

“God, it’s gorgeous,” Cody murmured. “What does it say?”

“I don’t know for sure,” I said. “I assume it spells out its name, but I haven’t learned to read runes yet.”

“Death day, right?” he asked. I nodded. “It’s a perfectly balanced blade by the look of it.” He glanced at me. “Can I touch it?”

I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Reaching out with one reverent hand, Cody closed it around the hilt, and let go quickly. “Jesus! It’s freezing!”

“It is?” I hefted it experimentally. “It’s cold, but I wouldn’t call it freezing.”

He shook out his hand, then showed it to me. There was a reddened imprint of dauda-dagr’s hilt on his palm and fingers. “At a guess, I’d say it’s not meant for anyone but you to wield.”

I winced. “Good to know. Sorry!”

“Not your fault.” Cody studied the dagger. “It didn’t come with a sheath?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s see if we can’t improvise something.” He spread a piece of muslin on the worktable. “I’ll make you something more permanent later.”