Diesel absently fondled Bob's head, and Bob drooled a little on Diesel's pant leg, hoping for a scrap of cheese.

"Is this visit social or professional?" I asked Diesel.

"Professional. I'm looking for a guy named Bernie Beaner. I need to shut him down."

If I'm to believe Diesel, there are people on this planet who have abilities that go beyond what would be considered normal human limitations. These people aren't exactly superheroes. It's more that they're ordinary souls with the freakish ability to levitate a cow or slow-pitch a lightning bolt. Some are good and some are bad. Diesel tracks the bad. The alternative explanation for Diesel is that he's a wacko.

"What's Beaner's problem?" I asked.

Diesel dropped a small leftover chunk of cheese into Rex's cage and gave another chunk to Bob. "Gone off the edge. His marriage went into the shitter, and he blamed it on another Unmentionable. Now he's out to get her."

"Unmentionable?"

"That's what we call ourselves. It sounds better than freak of nature."

Only marginally.

Bob was pushing against Diesel, trying to get him to give up more cheese. Bob was about ninety pounds of rangy dog, and Diesel was two hundred of hard muscle. It would take a lot more than Bob to bulldoze Diesel around my kitchen.

"And you're in my apartment, why?" I asked Diesel.

"I need help."

"No. No, no, no, no, no."

"You have no choice, sweetie pie. The woman Beaner's looking for is on your most-wanted list. And she's in my custody. If you want your big-ticket bond, you have to help me."

"That's horrible. That's blackmail or bribery or something."

"Yeah. Deal with it."

"Who's the woman?" I asked Diesel.