At first he’d thought he could set up in Hubbney, maybe meet up with acquaintances and do a little business, but the handouts ended after the first week. With all the storm damage, there was plenty of grunt work to be had, and every physically able adult had to show a work chit in order to get a meal at the reduced price for displaced persons. The chits could also be used to buy food from the nearest grocery store—and they could be exchanged for money. But Sandee gobbled up as much food as the two kids put together and then whined about there being no one to watch the kids when he told her he wasn’t feeding her anymore. If she wanted to eat, she could work too.

Since she was coming back to the flop with money instead of chits, he had a good idea what kind of work she was doing. Fine with him. These days, she was the body he banged when he couldn’t find better.

Should have gone back to Toland, where he knew the players, knew the games, knew whose back to scratch and who was weak enough that he could lean on them to get something. But he was in Lakeside because Sissy had led him on, let him believe CJ had somehow greased some wheels and set her and Mama up with a place to stay and food for the taking. But there was no food for the taking, and while he wasn’t paying anything to stay there, the apartment wasn’t any better than the flop they’d had in Hubbney. The freaks had found another bed and brought it up yesterday afternoon. Single beds for a man who had a woman. And bedsprings that squeaked every time he moved. How was he even supposed to hump his woman, knowing there were cops—and worse—listening?

Sissy’s fault. All of it. Well, she could do a little something to make it up to him. She surely could.

Jimmy went inside, letting the screen door slam. The sound woke Sandee, who jerked up in bed.

“What’s going on? Jimmy? Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Out? Where? Baby, let me put some clothes on, and I’ll go with you.”

He left the apartment while she was still scrambling to find something to wear that didn’t stink since she’d been “too busy” to wash any clothes. He wasn’t concerned about his own clothes. If Sandee didn’t look after him properly, he’d boot her ass out and let Sissy look after him.

Maybe he should do that anyway.

When a break came in the morning traffic, Jimmy hustled across Crowfield Avenue and went into A Little Bite to let Sissy provide him with a decent breakfast.

• • •

While Nadine filled the display case with fresh baked goods, Tess wrote the day’s offerings on the menu board.

“We received extra eggs yesterday, so I made quiche for the breakfast crowd and figured I’d use the rest of the eggs to make egg salad for sandwiches later in the day,” Nadine said.

“I’ll add them as specials,” Tess replied. “Save a piece of quiche for Meg. She dashed out this morning without eating an adequate breakfast.”

“Why was she in such a hurry to reach the office? Some kind of special delivery?”

“She’s reading a book, which she left at the office because she went to the Quiet Mind class last evening. But she had stopped at an exciting part and wanted to read more before work.”

Nadine raised her eyebrows. “And there were no comments at home?”

Tess smiled. “Simon doesn’t know how to complain about it since he asked her to review the book.”

Nadine laughed softly. “Maybe I’ll walk the piece of quiche over to the Liaison’s Office and see for myself what Meg finds so interesting.”

Tess looked at the Sierra, who was moving a broom around but didn’t seem to be doing much actual work. Her smile faded. “Hold off for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

Howling Good Reads wasn’t open yet, but the lattice door that separated the two shops wasn’t latched. Going in, she went to the checkout counter, picked up the phone, and called the Market Square bank. The Business Association had an account with a human regional bank, but the Market Square bank was a private institution run by the Sanguinati. It was the place where all the Courtyard businesses recorded the amount of credit employees could use in the stores here. Pay was always split between Courtyard credit and money that could be used in human places.

When Miss Twyla arrived with the Sierra and the pups, Simon and the rest of the Business Association had been prepared to give them food and shelter for a few days simply because they were Lieutenant Montgomery’s family, and the Courtyard had offered the best protection against the storm and the Elders’ wrath. But Miss Twyla had insisted on working for her keep and had insisted that the Sierra do the same. No pay had been involved. But after it became clear their visit was actually a permanent move, Simon had held by the Courtyard’s basic rule: anyone who lived off the land’s bounty had to do a job that supported the Courtyard. Humans like the police pack didn’t officially work in the Courtyard, didn’t receive a pay envelope like an employee, but the interaction they provided was valued, which was why the police directly involved with the Courtyard were allowed to purchase things in the stores.

“Market Square Bank,” a male voice said.

“This is Tess. How much credit does Sierra Montgomery have available?”

While she waited for the information, she looked out the window and saw that Cyrus waiting to cross the street. Her hair turned green with broad red streaks and started to coil.

The banker returned to the phone. “How much credit do you want to allow that she hasn’t yet earned?”