“Call me when you’re done with work,” Lotham orders.
“You call me.” Now I am being a bitch, but I don’t care.
“If that’s what you prefer.”
“And what will you be doing this evening?”
“Running down financial accounts for Tamara Levesque and a family tree for Livia Samdi.”
“Do you think you might need an attack cat?”
“I’m a police detective, for the love of God—”
“And I’m a woman who’s lived in more scary neighborhoods than you’ll ever get to visit. We both have our skills.”
“Frankie—”
“Lotham.”
“I wish I understood you.”
“Detectives like puzzles. Which means the moment you figure me out...”
“I’m not as shallow as you seem to think.”
“And I’m not so complicated. I’m here to find a missing teen, which is now two missing teens. This is what I do. I am experienced, and I have handled situations like this before. These kinds of cases...” I shrug. “They always involve secrets and there’s generally at least one person willing to kill to keep those secrets safe.”
“Do you carry a gun?”
“I have a whistle. A very loud whistle. Though if it helps, Stoney has a baseball bat behind the bar.”
“Take it upstairs with you tonight.”
“Fine.” I glance at my watch. Three thirty. “I gotta go.” I pop open the door, climb out onto the sidewalk.
“Frankie,” Lotham calls from the driver’s seat. “Be careful, okay? Just, be careful.”
“Back at you.”
I shut the car door and head to work.