Where There’s Smoke

Otter smirked and nodded to the beer he held.

“Just a little,” he said.

“I won’t keep you long,” the woman on the porch said. “We’re going door to door asking for anything to help a local family that lost everything in a fire last night.”

“Sure,” he said. “I probably have a couple of blankets I could give you.”

“No. We need cash.”

Otter nodded.

“Anything you can spare,” she said, “would really help them.”

“As long as its cash?”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each.

“Does this ever work?”

“Sometimes.”

He closed the door, made sure it was locked.

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