“Yes.” Her eyes flick from Tommy to Everett, and she sighs. “You two fools have been talking to him again, haven’t you?”

Tommy, always quick to laugh or make a bet, shrugs. “We like him.”

Arlie glowers at Tommy, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Found a job yet?” Ever asks, ignoring them both.

I set my Coke down and rest my chin in both hands. “Nope. Not even Luther would help me out.”

“I thought you already had a job?” Arlie asks.

“Nothing stable. I have the occasional contract for kids’ parties and sometimes run deliveries for the Chinese restaurant in my building. A month ago, I drove up north and helped out on a farm for a few weeks. Before that, I tried Ubering until my car scared off any potential customers.”

“Why does your car scare people off?” Tommy asks.

“The bumper’s dicey, and I think the bloodstains on my back seat must form some kind of satanic symbol.”

“Sure,” Ever says. “The satanic symbol. Not the, you know, potential murder that happened there.”

“You don’t know it was a murder.”

Tommy’s usual unhinged laugh peeps out. “What other theories do you have? Let’s hear them.”

“Injury, obviously. Maybe the previous owner was a Good Samaritan who saw someone injured and took it upon themselves to drive them to the hospital. Maybe the last car interior detailer cut their hand during cleaning? Maybe someone gave birth there?”

“Gave birth to who? The devil?”

“I’m only saying there are a lot of options.”

Arlie takes a sip of whatever she’s drinking, dark, almost black eyes watching me. “And where did you get this car again?”

“Some guy downtown. He was about to set it on fire, so I got it for a steal.”

She nods, probably agreeing it was a good deal. “I think you’re right,” she finally says. “It was definitely the birth thing.”

“Thank you.”

Ever sighs. “She’s fucking with you. It was a murder, Perry. You’re driving around in a murderer’s car.”

“Did you check the back seat for ghosts?” Tommy asks. “Maybe that’s who was scaring off your customers.”

“Either way,” I say before they go off on a tangent, “no one will get in the car with someone who has a sub-two-star rating, so I’m back at square one. With nothing.” I play with a water ring on the tabletop, turning it into a smiley face. “My sister is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I promised her I’d find something. It’s why I asked Luther about, well … you know.”

“We know?”

“The …” Not wanting to say it out loud, I make a gun with my fingers. “The same line of work you guys are in.”

I feel the way the three of them share a tense look.