8 Diana beloved?

The magazine was useful. There was an entire section covering Diana and her saves the world heroic act from six different angles. It covers everything, starting with Grandmother and her going to the Debutante ball, saves a girl that was robbed. They were much covering from those involved. Gray the antique dealer (that's me) that verify the item and its value. Peter Warne the best friend who helps piece the truth. Roy her boyfriend that saved her in her time of need and has yet to fail her. Lena the waitress who gossips and sold potions. Last and not least Diana's personal view, making me sound like I was a two face Riparian, an ugly creature with a nasty long tongue. That was out for her money.

Let's just say I spend the next ten minutes cursing her in every language I knew. I would continue if my cell phone had not ringed.

"I don't want to take it." I mumble look at my phone like it was a two face Riparian.

Pausing over it, I stared at it not sure what to do. I knew the ID and she didn't like to be kept waiting. Then again this call was a job and I was a little low on cash until I found a place to unload the latest inventory I bought at an estate sale or borrow money.

Summoning up my best happy voice I answered the phone. Cross my fingers hopping it was just a robbery like the last two and they only need me to identify the items.

"This is GRAY. Is there a job?"

"If there was nothing Gray I would not be calling. Listen, I need you at the Smallwood Drive as soon as you can. It could be a murder so zip it. Don't talk to anyone without me. Bring your badge and use the side door. When can you be here?" The voice on the other end asked business-like as usual.

"Soon but not soon enough for you, I think. I'm cooking so I need to wait for a little until can't leave the burners on."

"Don't make excuses! Step on it!"

I sign. Ronnie Adam was one of the many police that seems to always need my services. This was a side job I had picked up unintentional after help solving an F.B.I case three years ago, thanks to my vast knowledge of rituals and ancient artifacts. They were part of my education so I knew what was happening even if the professors and other specialist were clueless, and in the end, I had guessed who was possibly behind it and sent the police in that direction, saving two little boy life.

After that I built a reputation. Any job usually ended with bloomers. Those that had blood but didn't come from it. These people usually wanted it all to go away. I was more than happy to help make a deal.