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The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"How longhas she been missing?"
"Two days."
"My advice is to go to the police."
He shook his head stubbornly. "No."
I sighed. "I don't know anything about finding a missing person. I raise the dead, slay vampires, that's it."
"Mr. Vaughn said you could help me."
"Did you tell him your problem?"
He nodded.
Shit. Bert and I were going to have a long talk. "The police are good at their job, Mr. Smitz. Just tell them your wife is missing. Don't mention the lycanthropy. See what they turn up." I didn't like telling a client to withhold information from the police, but it beat the heck out of not going at all.
"Ms. Blake, please, I'm worried. We've got two kids."
I started to say all the reasons I couldn't help him, then stopped. I had an idea. "Animators, Inc., has a private investigator on retainer. Veronica Sims has been involved in a lot of preternatural cases. She might be able to help you."
"Can I trust her?"
"I do."
He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. "All right, how do I get in touch with her?"
"Let me give her a call, see if she can see you."
"That would be great, thank you."
"I want to help you, Mr. Smitz. Hunting missing spouses just isn't my specialty." I dialed the phone as I talked. I knew Ronnie's number by heart. We exercised at least twice a week together, not to mention an occasional movie, dinner, whatever. Best friends, a concept that most women never outgrow. Ask a man who his best friend is and he'll have to think about it. He won't know right off the top of his head. A woman would. A man might not even be able to think of a name, not for his best friend. Women keep track of these things. Men don't. Don't ask me why.
Ronnie's answering machine clicked in. "Ronnie, if you're there, it's Anita, pick up."
The phone clicked, and a second later I was talking to the genuine article. "Hi, Anita. I thought you had a date with Richard tonight. Something wrong?"
See, best friends. "Not with the date. I've got a client here who I think is more up your alley than mine."
"Tell me," she said.
I did.
"Did you recommend he go to the police?"
"Yep."
"He won't go?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "Well, I've done missing persons before but usually after the police have done everything they can. They have resources I can't touch."
"I'm aware of that," I said.
"He won't budge?"
"I don't think so."
"So it's me or. .
"How longhas she been missing?"
"Two days."
"My advice is to go to the police."
He shook his head stubbornly. "No."
I sighed. "I don't know anything about finding a missing person. I raise the dead, slay vampires, that's it."
"Mr. Vaughn said you could help me."
"Did you tell him your problem?"
He nodded.
Shit. Bert and I were going to have a long talk. "The police are good at their job, Mr. Smitz. Just tell them your wife is missing. Don't mention the lycanthropy. See what they turn up." I didn't like telling a client to withhold information from the police, but it beat the heck out of not going at all.
"Ms. Blake, please, I'm worried. We've got two kids."
I started to say all the reasons I couldn't help him, then stopped. I had an idea. "Animators, Inc., has a private investigator on retainer. Veronica Sims has been involved in a lot of preternatural cases. She might be able to help you."
"Can I trust her?"
"I do."
He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. "All right, how do I get in touch with her?"
"Let me give her a call, see if she can see you."
"That would be great, thank you."
"I want to help you, Mr. Smitz. Hunting missing spouses just isn't my specialty." I dialed the phone as I talked. I knew Ronnie's number by heart. We exercised at least twice a week together, not to mention an occasional movie, dinner, whatever. Best friends, a concept that most women never outgrow. Ask a man who his best friend is and he'll have to think about it. He won't know right off the top of his head. A woman would. A man might not even be able to think of a name, not for his best friend. Women keep track of these things. Men don't. Don't ask me why.
Ronnie's answering machine clicked in. "Ronnie, if you're there, it's Anita, pick up."
The phone clicked, and a second later I was talking to the genuine article. "Hi, Anita. I thought you had a date with Richard tonight. Something wrong?"
See, best friends. "Not with the date. I've got a client here who I think is more up your alley than mine."
"Tell me," she said.
I did.
"Did you recommend he go to the police?"
"Yep."
"He won't go?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "Well, I've done missing persons before but usually after the police have done everything they can. They have resources I can't touch."
"I'm aware of that," I said.
"He won't budge?"
"I don't think so."
"So it's me or. .