I head for my truck once it’s become clear that Chief won’t share his plans with me. I leave behind the thermos half-full of coffee. On my way out, the sprites dance about my head and ruffle my hair.
I hold up my hand in a wave to Penny and let them weave between my fingers.
“What’s wrong?” The question is no more than a whisper, but it catches Penny’s attention.
She looks up from her work, her expression bright. “Nothing, nothing. I’m fine. I’m about to make Chief some coffee. Want to stay for some?”
I open my mouth and then close it, nipping at the tail end of a sprite. I spit, and Penny’s expression falters.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say, trying to blow the sprite away from my face. There is no subtle way to do this. “Bug in my mouth.”
I cast a sidelong glance at the coffeemaker. One of t
