Jack Of All Trades ✓ | steampunk, dragons, trickery

Chapter 4.3: Eli With Proof

Jack went up to the boy, getting his attention with a wave. Finch-James looked a little startled, but quickly composed himself.

"Finch, how is everything?" Jack smiled, leaning on his cane.

"I, er, everything is fine."

"How's your father?"

"Oh, he's good. Good."

"Good." Jack patted his left side. "If there's anything I can do, lad, let me know, alright?" He gave a smile.

Damn the knife, Finch-James thought.

Jack stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Oh, this doesn't have to be right away, but I think I dropped something at your place. A knife. It's from my father. The only one of its kind. You happen to—"

"This is yours'?" Finch-James took out the knife from his pocket. "I thought it might be Simon's, but I hadn't the chance to ask him. I found it in the hall."

Jack immediately beamed and took the knife. He unfolded it and turned it back into a taser gun. Finch-James audibly gasped. Obviously, he didn't know that that extra handle was for. "Thank you, friend," Jack said pointing the taser gun in his direction. "This is it!"

Finch-James swallowed. "Yeah, uh, you're welcome. I need to get back to the booth. I think I see some customers there," he said and quickly retreated from the scene.

He knows. He definitely knows. But that means I do, too. I know he killed Rocky. Dungshit. Finch-James thought. Norman's going to kill me.

Jack kept his smile on as he went around to greet people, thanking them for coming, telling them to enjoy themselves. To the people who only bought tickets for the gallery, he enticed them to join the dinner because there were plenty seats and food to go around. It was mostly men who came and it was hard to use his charm on men, but Jack wasn't about to back down from more sales. But all the while he went around peppering his charisma into people's conversations, his mind was slightly occupied with thoughts of Norman.

Norman Fellows was Jack's old partner turned traitor and now enemy. If Rocky and Finch-James were talking about Norman, that meant the redhead was back in town. Either escaped jail or somehow tricked the police to release him early, it was a problem. Norman knew Jack when Jack wasn't who he was today. If he ever came out in public and exposed him, Jack wouldn't be able to keep The Kaleidoscope or any of the money he made on it.

Maybe I'll hunt him down tomorrow, he thought as he surveyed the gallery and the drove of people that moved collectively from one artwork to the next. He couldn't let anything ruin his success. Especially not now when it was doing so well. He was just a few conversations away from getting five-hundred fellings in one night and possibly even more. Palestone was still hovering around the humongous mural while his wife had been released from his leash and was standing outside the crowd that was listening to Timothy's embellished dragon's breath story.

Tell it big or don't tell it at all, Timothy. Jack recalled himself saying that yesterday. They were good words of advice if he did say so himself.

"And I do," he muttered. There was a tap on his arm, and he turned. A girl with long and wavy, brown hair stood before him. She wore a frill-edged deep blue dress and on her slim neck was a silver necklace with a white crystal at the end. Her bright pink lips and flushed cheeks, and her delicate hands holding a small white purse, Jack let his eyes travel all around her body, unable to place who this beautiful girl was. When she smiled, dimples appeared on her pale cheeks.

"Are you done eating me up with your eyes?"

Her jarring, deep-for-a-girl voice snapped him out of his daze. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable for having been caught in a daze at all.