Kinky Bones Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  All Gone

  Some Perspective

  Damsel in Distress

  Family Fueds

  All Sorted

  Back Home

  Spinning Head

  Weird Goings On

  Cryptic Bullshit

  Too Old for This

  There Are Worse Places. Maybe

  Why Do I Bother?

  Dirty Streets

  Getting to Know You

  Idiot Sidekicks

  Hearing the Tale

  Off We Go

  Dumb and Dumber

  A Wizard's Wrath

  Calming Down

  My Worst Nightmare

  The Best Coffee

  Too Many Cooks

  Aargh

  Decisions

  Deep Breath

  Not Again

  Give Me Strength

  Some Down Time

  Time to Plan

  The Nitty Gritty

  Back and Forth

  Home Invasion

  Popping Round to Ivan's

  A Fear of Hairy Balls

  No Time Like the Present

  A Disturbance in the Force

  Glutton for Punishment

  So That's Why

  Unexpected

  Accidents Will Happen

  The Beginning of the End

  Better Than Magic

  A Familiar Meeting

  Ugh

  Oh

  Getting Miffed

  On a Loop

  Ad Infinitum

  Growing Concerned

  A New One

  Make or Break

  Hard Wood

  Exploding Wood

  Nobody Listens

  Busy Boy

  A Well-Deserved Rest

  What Next?

  Unfinished Business

  Infinite Problems

  A Meeting With Fate

  Worst Feeling in the World

  Revelation After Revelation

  One Small Step...

  Getting to Know You

  Pouring My Heart Out

  Cool Stuff That Never Happens in Real Life

  Meeting the Family

  Making Plans

  The Missing Link

  Two's Company

  Almost Over

  Thinking on My Feet

  A Kinky Surprise

  Grr

  Digging Deep

  An Aha Moment

  The Truth

  Blew It

  Frosty Reception

  Caveman

  Dinner Time

  Kinky Bones

  Wildcat Wizard Book 7

  Al K. Line

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  Copyright © 2018, Al K. Line. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All Gone

  "Hey, Vicky, sorry to jump right here with the Teleron, but this is an emergency. Something's up with my computer and it's making..." I trailed off as the full horror of what I was confronted with sank into my shocked, squirming brain, much as I was trying to stop the images registering with all my mighty wizard powers.

  "Arthur! What the hell do you think you're doing?" screeched Vicky as she scrambled for her clothes and covered herself up ineffectively.

  It wasn't the image of her tiny naked body I was trying to banish from my brain though, it was the sight of a very naked Steve, including his hairy bottom. As if that wasn't enough, which it was, I also saw his... Ugh, anyway, let's just say the whole scene was gross, and brought to mind words fraught with imagery. Words such as moist, and rod, and bouncy, and dare I say it, thrust! I'd seen Vicky naked more times than I cared to remember, and once it was even nice, but this was beyond uncomfortable. It was too early, or late, as I hadn't gone to bed yet, for such shenanigans.

  "Not cool, dude," muttered Steve, giving me a piercing stare as he slipped his jeans on casually, unconcerned by his nakedness, then sat on the sofa with his hands behind his head, looking bemused by Vicky's panicking.

  "Sorry, guys, really sorry." I nodded an extra apology to Steve, and fair play, he took it well and nodded back. We were cool, all forgiven.

  "Arthur, bugger off," snapped my diminutive sidekick, now dressed in child's jeans and a tight red sweater, as she attempted to pull her ponytail tight whilst simultaneously glaring at me and trying to put her hands on her hips for extra intimidation.

  Like that would work on me, a wizard of over forty years. Scarred, battered by life, grizzled of hair, tired of body, mind, and soul, and not in the mood for any of her crap. She was still scary though, not that I'd ever admit it to her.

  "I can't, my computer's beeping at me all the time and I can't remember any of my passwords. That's your fault," I accused, thinking it best to go on the offensive. "Are those your knickers?" I asked, pointing to something impossibly skimpy clinging to the arm of the sofa.

  "Can't it wait?" asked Vicky as she grabbed the frilly red material and pocketed it, exasperated. She flung Steve's shirt at him and said, "Fun's over, lover boy," then bent and kissed him. So nasty.

  Steve growled at me then finished dressing. Vicky straightened herself out properly then checked the time on the clock on the mantelpiece. "Arthur, it's still only half nine in the morning, what are you doing here?"

  "I told you, my computer. More importantly, why are you two getting up to no good in the living room so early?"

  "Why? I'll tell you why. Because I have children, and currently they are in school, and I have three loads of washing to do, I have to clean the house, go shopping, pick them up later, take them to their karate lessons, then I have to make them dinner, clean the—"

  "Okay, I get it." I held up a hand to stop her as this could go on for hours. She loved recounting, on a very regular basis, the joys of having young children.

  "Men!" Vicky stormed over to a cupboard covered in photos and garish things she liked to call ornaments and I liked to call junk, and grabbed her laptop. She slumped with a huff onto the sofa and lifted the lid. It immediately began to beep at her.

  "Why's it doing that? Is it because of my computer? You have access to mine, right?"

  "Yes, so you could have just called."

  "I did. You never answered."

  "I was busy. Idiot."

  Vicky glanced down at the screen. Orange light reflected in her eyes, eyes which began to widen, and then it looked like they were glistening. Tears? She gasped, then typed furiously.

  "What is it? Some kind of bug? I hate using the bloody thing, it's always going wonky. I just wanted to move money as a surprise for George, but I usually let her or you do the banking stuff. It doesn't make any sense. Then I couldn't log in and the screen began flashing and all this beeping and—"

  "Will you shut up!"

  "Have I broken the Internet? Did I ruin my computer putting in the wrong password? Can you do that? Can you?"

  "I said shut up. What is wrong with you?"

  Vicky typed furiously, looking increasingly panicked by the second. She was often like this when in virtual mode, lost to reality as cyberspace took over. Couldn't see the attraction myself. Technology was not a wizard's forte, and I hated being unable to understand it all. Vicky on the other hand was a genius with this world, was one of the best hackers in the country, although to look at her you'd assume she would struggl
e with anything more complicated than a toaster.

  "How's things, mate?" asked Steve as he buttoned up his shirt.

  "Usual. Knackered, taking it easy after that nonsense with the Hangman and Martha. Keeping a low profile to ensure my head remains attached to my shoulders. You?"

  "A few small jobs, but same as you, keeping my head down, and intact. Been seeing Vicky quite a lot."

  "Yeah, I'm happy for you guys. And we should catch up, it's been a while."

  "Definitely. How about later on?"

  "Will you two be quiet! This is serious." Vicky glanced up, looking about as stressed as I'd ever seen her.

  "What is it? You can get rid of a virus, can't you?"

  "Arthur, I haven't even accessed your computer yet. I'm more concerned with the alerts I've received. I'm in the accounts, your accounts, and my accounts, and they're empty."

  "Well, that's good, isn't it? We never keep money in them for long. You always transfer the cash right out so we're safe."

  "I don't mean the accounts we funnel payments through for jobs, I mean our private accounts, our separate ones. The ones where we do keep the money. They're empty."

  "Haha, very funny. There's a fortune in them, in mine anyway as I don't waste it on crap like you do. And even with your spending, you should have a decent amount by now."

  "I did, as the life insurance came through. It's all gone."

  Vicky had finally got a large payout because her husband had died in a car accident. She kept quiet regarding the bit about it being a cover-up because she'd murdered him outside their front door. Still, he deserved it. Kind of.

  "Haha, that's not funny. You said those accounts were unhackable, that they had the best security ever and you chose them precisely because of that. And you said you'd spread the money out, use a few accounts, just in case."

  "I know all that," she snapped, sweat running into her eyes, her forehead a sheen of stress.

  "Well?"

  "Well, it's gone. From all accounts, large and small."

  "You're screwed, mate." Steve rose and came behind the sofa to stand beside me as we looked over Vicky's shoulders at the worrying lack of numbers on the screen.

  Vicky's computer began to beep manically. "That's what mine did. I just closed the lid and came here. Should I have turned it off then on again?"

  "Shut up." Vicky typed angrily, battering the keypad like she always did, but whatever she did wasn't working, as next thing we knew, a series of 0's and 1's appeared on the screen. They danced around like jittery ants then formed an image. It was of a fist. Slowly, a middle finger rose then snapped into place.

  Vicky's computer whirred then the screen went black.

  "Fuck," she moaned, pressing the on/off button like it would dispense chocolate. "It's dead."

  Hi, I'm Arthur "The Hat" Salzman. Gangster. Wizard. Suddenly very poor.

  Some Perspective

  Vicky sank even lower on the sofa and sighed deeply as she rubbed at her eyes. "It's all gone, all our money. Mine, yours."

  "What about George's?"

  "Hers was fine, all still there. And yes, I made sure to be careful accessing her account."

  "Phew, that's good news."

  "Not for us it isn't. Someone stole all our money, Arthur. We're skint."

  "Oh, come on, don't be dramatic. It's just computer stuff, right? Just numbers on the screen, someone messing with us."

  Steve sat beside Vicky and put his arm around her, while I tried not to breathe through my nose. Sex smell is all fine and dandy, but only when it's been you making it. So nasty.

  "Arthur, are you being dense on purpose, or are you really this stupid?" asked Vicky.

  "Hey, no need to be like that. I'm just saying, it's all virtual, someone screwing with us, messing about. It's not like the actual money is really gone, right? Just the accounts look empty. You know, virtual numbers."

  Vicky and Steve both stared at me until I felt rather uncomfortable. I twiddled the Teleron nervously in my hand, wondering if I should jump back home and try to get some sleep. I certainly needed it. I'd been up all night, wandering about the land by my country home in Cornwall, many miles away from the city where Vicky lived and most of my work was focused. Mainly because it was where so many of the dangerous guys lived and did their business.

  "You're serious?" asked Vicky.

  I shrugged, being as non-committal as possible as I was obviously missing something here.

  "So how do you think the money got into the accounts? That someone lugged millions in cash into a bank and then it got put on a computer but the actual money is still there really?"

  "Obviously not, but we put that money in, so it can't have been actually taken. It's there somewhere."

  "No, it isn't. It went in virtually, just numbers, and now it's gone, just numbers. You're joking, right?"

  "Haha, of course I am. Just trying to take your mind off it. Haha." I wasn't, I really wasn't. Must have been because I was tired. I knew this stuff, but I was addled, as usual.

  "It isn't helping. Okay, you two, bugger off, I need to solve this."

  "No way," I protested.

  "I'm staying too," said Steve. "I know how you get when you're working on that bloody computer. You forget to eat, you lose track of time, and you get, er..."

  "Get what?" Vicky gave Steve a glare and he shrank away. Guess he was getting to know her quite well.

  "Er, um..."

  "You get bloody mental is what he's trying to say. Loopy-loo. Bat shit crazy. Off on one. Loco. So while you sort this mess out, and it is your mess as this is your job, why I let you in on this, be my partner, we're staying so you don't burn the house down, give the kids away, or forget to have a pee. You remember that time when we had to spend a few days on the security system for that place up north and you got the sofa so wet because you wouldn't get—"

  "I told you, it was an accident." Vicky glanced at Steve nervously and smiled. "I drank too many fizzy drinks, okay?"

  "Sure, babe. But Arthur's right, we'll stay, just in case."

  And so it was, much to my chagrin, that we became embroiled in one of the worst, dare I say, capers of my career as a wizard thief. Mainly because Vicky was so grumpy.

  By late morning she looked skeletal and had lost some hair because she kept tugging it. By dinner time, after I'd picked up the kids and got takeaway, she was screaming at a screen and using the PC as she'd broken two laptops.

  By bedtime, after I'd helped the girls brush their teeth and Steve had read them three stories and been plastered with make-up and I'd had to figure out how to get young girls to put on their nighties without me having to help in any way or even be in the room, Vicky was losing the plot.

  Steve and I marched into the dining room together, thinking there was backup if we went together, and stood in front of Vicky nervously.

  We coughed discreetly; Vicky carried on typing and scowling, dark bags under her eyes. We called her name; she continued to punish the keyboard. We shook her; nothing. So I sat beside her at the table, grabbed the flat screen, and turned it away from her.

  "Hey, what are you doing?"

  "It's seven in the evening."

  "What? Really? Oh."

  "Aren't you forgetting something?"

  Vicky stared at me blankly. "Like what?"

  "Like your children? We made them dinner, because you didn't even say hello when I picked them up from school, Steve played with them, read them stories, and now they're ready for bed. You need to get a grip. You always do this and it isn't healthy. It has to stop. Chill out."

  "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Those poor girls. I thought I was better now, but I can't help it. But it's our money, Arthur, your money. This is my fault."

  "Yes, it is."

  "Dude, c'mon."

  "I haven't finished. It's your fault, Vicky, and yes, you were meant to keep our cash safe, but it's just money. The girls are more important. This can wait, and if you can't figure this out without making yourself il
l, then don't do it. Actually, I won't let you. You either eat, take care of yourself, look after the girls properly and stop making them feel upset, or this whole thing is off. Permanently. I mean it. If you don't get a grip then there will be no more jobs, no more working with me, and I'm done. You hear?"

  "I do. And thank you. Both of you. I needed that. But I'm sorry, I don't know how this happened. Forgive me?"

  "Sure. Like I said, it's just money. It's not like we're homeless. You have this place, I have mine, we have most of our money well away from the banks, so we'll—"

  "Wait, what?"

  "I said, we have our houses, and most of our money is well away from banks. Yours is, right? You did what I told you back at the start of all this?"

  "Um, what was that again?"

  "That you never, ever, leave more money in a bank than you are willing to lose. That you treat it like a gamble, and most gets converted to hard currency, preferably gold, and you dig a hole and hide it. I have mine somewhere safe, guarded by wards, a place nobody can get it. You said you did the same, that you were on it. I remember."

  "Um, I did?"

  "Hell, you had it all in the bank?"

  "Most of it. Just got a little bit in a safe here."

  "How little?"

  "Few thousand."

  "You muppet."

  "I thought you were joking," protested Vicky, close to tears she was so exhausted and upset. Guess this wasn't helping.

  "Why would I joke about that?" I asked, perplexed.

  "Who the hell buries gold? Who even owns gold?"

  "Wizards, for a start. All of them. Plus, people who don't want their entire fortune stolen with the press of a button."

  "Oh."

  "Look, just go put the girls to bed, they're waiting. We'll figure something out, don't worry. I have every faith in you. You'll find where it is and get it back."

  Vicky staggered off like a hunchback, looking seriously depressed.

  "Did you really hide most of your money in gold?"

  "Yup. Why?"

  "You are one weird dude, Arthur."

  "But I'm not broke."

  "True. You think she'll be okay?"

  "As long as we watch her. You know she's got an eating disorder, right? That she goes through phases when she doesn't eat, sleeps worse than me, and gets manic with it."