Wicked Charms
pocket,” Diesel said to Nergal.
    “So what?” Nergal said. “It’s not a crime. It’s evidence.”
    “I’ve seen the evidence list, and the coin isn’t on it,” Diesel said. “So it looks to me like you stole some evidence.”

    “It’s just an old coin,” Nergal said. “It’s not even a whole coin. It’s just a piece of a coin.” He pulled it out of his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. “Why are you so interested in this?”
    “It’s a small but important piece of a puzzle,” Diesel said. “Why did you want it?”
    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Nergal said. “It’s too weird.”
    “Try me,” Diesel said.
    Nergal adjusted his Harry Potter glasses. “If I touch a dead body, I can sense the last thing he or she was thinking before death.” He shifted foot to foot. “I know that’s crazy. I used to think it was my imagination, but sometimes I learn things that turn out to be true.”
    “Wow,” I said, “that’s amazing.”
    He shrugged. “Most people’s last thoughts are pretty mundane. I get a lot of people wishing they’d worn clean underwear. Or wishing they’d deleted their browser history. Folks are surprisingly pragmatic.”
    “So they don’t get all profound at the end?”
    “Not so much,” Nergal said. “Still, every now and then someone tells me something interesting. Like the guy in the cage. I guess I shouldn’t have taken the coin, but I didn’t see any harm in it. I didn’t think it had real value.”
    “Do you have any other talents besides the dead thing?” Diesel asked him. “Can you fly? Can you talk to grasshoppers?”

    “No. I can’t do either of those things.”
    “He’s not listed in our database,” Diesel said to me.
    “What database?” Nergal asked.
    “The one that records people with enhanced abilities,” I said.
    Nergal’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes got wide. “You mean there are others?”
    “Yep,” I said. “We’re called Unmentionables.”
    “Not officially,” Diesel said.
    I looked over at him. “You told me we were called Unmentionables.”
    “That’s more of a nickname. Like calling people from Massachusetts ‘Mass-holes.’ ”
    “Well, what’s the official name for people with enhanced abilities?” I asked.
    Diesel shrugged. “People with enhanced abilities?”
    “I thought I was the only one,” Nergal said. “I never told anyone. And now I find out there are others like me.”
    “Not exactly like you,” I said. “We all have different talents. I can locate certain empowered objects. Some people can bend spoons. Others can make it rain.”
    “That’s so cool,” Nergal said. “And you guys have, like, a club?”
    “No club,” Diesel said.
    “Do you have parties?” Nergal asked. “Mixers?”
    Diesel grinned. “Sorry, dude,” he said. “No mixers.”

    “So if you don’t have parties, how did Lizzy get frosting in her hair?” Nergal asked.
    “It’s work-related,” I said, gesturing toward my head.
    “Tell me about the pirate prisoner,” Diesel said to Nergal. “What did you learn from him?”
    “The first thought I got was ‘peg leg.’ That’s how I found the piece of the coin. I heard the thought, and I looked down at the man’s wooden leg and saw that a piece of a coin was lying next to it. It must have fallen out.”
    “Did he have any other thoughts?”
    “The last thought he had before he was shot was ‘At least McCoy will never be able to find the treasure without all eight pieces of the coin.’ And his attitude was odd. The guy was almost happy. No, not happy. Gloating . That’s the closest I can come to it.” Nergal exhaled a long breath. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to talk about all this. Can I have the names of other people in the club? Do we have a Facebook page?”
    “No and no,” Diesel said, taking the piece of coin from him.
    —
    “This is going to be a real pain in the ass,” Diesel said when we got back to the car.
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