That caused her to pause and reassess me, carefully. Then the smile came back, tempered a little. ‘I met your father once, when he was about your age. I liked him,’ she said. ‘He was always direct. And I see you’re just like him.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not. But enough that you know where I’m coming from, and I don’t deal in bullshit. If anything happens to Claire because of you, this will be a real different conversation.’

‘I have no interest in seeing anything happen to her,’ Jesse said. ‘I like the world out here the way it is. I’ve got no nostalgia for pitchforks and torches, and so I have a willing mate to provide for my needs, and if I get peckish for a little different fare, there are always people willing to make a donation. You just have to know where to go, and when to stop.’

It sounded good, but I was still wary. She was suitably wary of me, too; I saw it in her last look at me as she went through the door to the bar area. Well, that was out in the open, at least. Now I would have to watch my back around her, and Pete too, if Pete was in on Jesse’s secret. I had to assume he was.

Then one of the other bartenders bawled out that he was running low on shot glasses, and I had to get back to work.

The glamorous life.

Closing time was when all the patrons went home, or staggered out the door, anyway, but it wasn’t the end of shift for the rest of us. The battle-weary troops in the kitchen cleaned up there, then bussed tables and loaded the rest of the glasses into the dishwashers before heading out. The bartenders tallied their registers, deposited the take with the manager, and counted out their tips, yawning and bleary-eyed. Pete and his other two bouncers helped with the trash pickup and general straightening, and by the time we were done it was after three in the morning, the streets were cold and empty, and I took out the trash to the dumpster before heading upstairs to bed. Hated the accommodations, but damn, the commute was great.

The mattress was cold and lumpy, and the whole place (and me) smelt like industrial soap and beer, an uneasy and toxic mixture. Mick, the manager of Florey’s, let me know that if a brew went missing out of the cooler from time to time, well, that was probably just breakage, but if it got too extensive he’d have to start checking.