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Again and again, Jo-Jo moved her hand over Violet’s face Every tihter, her jaw a little squarer The swelling eased, and the nasty streaks of color faded fro Jo-Jo work always reminded me of a book I’d had as a child One that featured a cartoon character If you looked at the pages one at a tih the sheets fast enough, he’d walk from one side of the paper to the other

Ten minutes later, Jo-Jo dropped her hand Her eyes dilow So did her palm "There," the dwarf said in a low voice "It’s done"

"He also kicked her once," I said "In the stomach"

Jo-Jo nodded "He bruised her kidneys bad, but I fixed that too"

The dwarf got to her feet, wet a washcloth in the sink, and used it to wipe the blood off Violet’s face The girl didn’t stir She hadn’ton her Not surprising Her body had gone through a serious trauer Being healed by ic always took a lot out of a person, as the body tried to adjust fro as est eleic too s I didn’t like being left weak and helpless afterward, even if I had retired fro up Violet and threw the bloody rag into the trash can Finn slipped Violet’s glued together glasses on her face Then he leaned back and gave her an appreciative glance

"She cleaned up good, didn’t she?" he said in an ad tone

"She’s unconscious, Finn At least have the decency to leer at her when she’s awake," I said

Finn laced his hands behind his head and grinned "I’ll be sure and do just that"

Jo-Jo washed her hands again in the sink She grabbed another rag to dry them off, then turned to irl is, and why so that had happened the last twenty-four hours, starting with Sophia and I foiling Jake McAllister’s atte in and asking for the Tin Man, to the shooting, to Finn and I tracking her down and saving her from the dwarven hit man

"So that’s where Sophia went in such a hurry," Jo-Jo e she wanted to leave before the end"

I raised an eyebrow

"We atching a western The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly with Clint Eastwood Sophia hardly ever leaves before the big shon at the end," Jo-Jo explained

"Her favorite part is when Lee Van Cleef dies"

Sophia Deveraux, the Goth girl dwarf, was also quite the movie buff Westerns, action flicks, mob movies She loved them all The more violent they were, the better

"Anyway," I said, finishing my story "We left the dwarf ’s body for Sophia to dispose of and brought the girl here Once she’s awake, I plan on asking her some serious questions about Fletcher and where she heard the nairl A frown made the blue mud mask on her face crack She hadn’t bothered to wipe it off yet "She looks faain?"

"Violet Elizabeth Fox" I plucked the girl’s driver’s license out of her wallet and passed it to Jo-Jo

The dwarf scanned the laminated card Her frown deepened, and bits of blue mud flaked off her cheeks and settled on her pink housecoat "She lives up on Ridgeline Hollow Road"

"Do you know her?" Finn asked

Jo-Jo shook her head "No, but I’randfather"

Chapter Ten

Finn and I looked at each other "Grandfather?" we asked in unison

Jo-Jo nodded "Warren T Fox, of the Ridgeline Hollow Foxes The girl looks a fair bit like hione"

"And who is this Warren T Fox?" I asked

"He used to be a friend of Fletcher’s," the dwarf said

"But they had a falling out a long tie"

Jo-Jo stared at Violet, as still unconscious in the chair An eret

I wondered why Jo-Jo shook her head More mud mask flaked off her face

"C’irl comfortable, and I’ll tell you what I know"

Since Jo-Jo was stronger than either Finn or irl into the downstairs den, and arranged her on an overstuffed sofa I pulled off Violet’s bloody jacket and shoes; then Jo-Jo covered her with a soft, wared into the downstairs bathrooh the doorway that led into the kitchen

Most people went straight to Jo-Jo’s salon when they came to the house, but my favorite rooular butcher’s block table set in the middle surrounded by several tall stools Appliances done in a variety of pastel shades ringed three walls, while the fourth opened up into the den where Violet Fox snoozed Runelike clouds could be found everywhere, from the placemats on the table to the dish towels piled next to the sink to the fresco that covered the ceiling When I was younger, I used to lie on the kitchen floor for hours and stare at the painting on the ceiling, pretending the clouds really wereOne of the few childish fancies I’d allowed myself after the loss of my mother and older sister

Finn was already in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of chicory coffee Jo-Jo always kept a pot on in case Fletcher dropped by Now that the old one, Finn drank his share - and then so caffeine fumes that always reerator, pulled open the door, and peered inside

"What are you thinking? Sandwiches?" Finn asked in a hopeful voice

"No I’rabbed the butter out of the fridge, then ruolden raisins, brown sugar, vanilla I pulled the pan, a spatula, and a bowl Finn settled himself at the kitchen table and drank his coffee while I worked By the ti the batter into the oven