IT WAS JASMINE, THE sarcastic phone operator. I knew by her voice, even though she looked like all the other twenty-something brunettes.
“Busted,” I answered, drawing the knife back out and using it to saw at my steak.
“What are you going to use the salt for?” Jasmine asked, not seeming bothered that I’d kept the shaker. Did that mean I could have held onto the knife too? I decided not to risk a repeat of the weapon grab.
“Slugs give me the heebie-jeebies,” I answered. Which wasn’t a lie...although I hadn’t pocketed the salt to counteract slugs.
Jasmine scrunched up her face in sympathy. “Yeah, the downstairs isn’t sealed yet. I asked Rowan why we were in such a hurry, but he told me not to trouble my pretty little head about that.”
Pretty, little head was spat out with such venom tha
