Page 9 of Shadow Seeking

I glanced over the menu. “I think I’ll have spaghetti and meatballs. What about you, Penn?”

Penn handed the waitress her menu. “Chicken parm, please, with fettuccini Alfredo.”

As the waitress wrote down our orders, then left, Penn relaxed.

“I’m so relieved. I’ve been so worried. He sprung this on me about a week ago, and I’ve been crunching numbers, trying to figure out a way to make it work. But he’s upping the rent to twenty-one hundred a month and I can’t do that.”

“Hey, we should have thought of this before,” I said. “But it is what it is. I’m looking forward to having you move in. The house is large, and it feels empty with only me and Jangles there. Anyway, about the bitch who broke the mandrake oil—can you send her a bill for the cleaning?”

Penn shook her head. “No, I don’t even know her name. But I’ll tell you this: I’m instituting a you-break-it-you-buy-it policy from now on. So, how was your day?”

I told her what I could about the new case. We kept most things confidential, but I could give her a rundown on what we were facing, overall.

“The principal, huh? I wonder who they’re going to find to replace her. That might be one avenue to investigate—someone looking to create a vacancy, you know.” Penn stopped as the waitress brought our appetizers, and we moved on to discussing our favorite reality shows and I told her about Analida’s party, and the rest of the evening went by without incident.

Next morning,I woke early. At first, I wasn’t sure what had startled me out of my sleep, then noticed that Jangles was puking on my bedspread. Long hair cats were full of hairballs, it seemed, and I waited till she was done and then grabbed a paper towel and cleaned it up, then sponged it clean.

“Thank you, goober,” I said, ruffling her fur. “Is that a hint that you don’t like your food?” I opened my dresser drawer. In minutes I had slid into a pair of jeans and fastened my bra, then pulled on a tank top. I put on my socks and boots, then slapped on my makeup, braided my hair back, and headed for the kitchen, Jangles following me. I turned on the espresso machine to heat, then opened a can of cat food and set the bowl down.

“Here you go, eat up, floof monster.” I rinsed out the can and put it in the recycling, then pulled four shots of espresso and added milk and chocolate syrup, stirring it to make a mocha. Given I had extra time thanks to Jangles’s hairball wakingme early, I decided to make myself some eggs and toast. I scrambled up three eggs, then buttered two pieces of toast.

Finally, I sat at the counter on one of the stools and ate. Jangles jumped up to engage my attention and I managed to pet her while keeping her out of my plate. I glanced at my text messages, but there were no new notifications, so I slapped a lid on my travel mug, slid into my jacket, and—after kissing Jangles on the head—I headed out the door.

I gotto the office by eight-thirty, and to my surprise, Dante was already there. I stopped at the main desk to talk to Sophia.

“Anything new this morning?” I asked.

“We have a message from a woman who wants us to investigate her boyfriend’s past. She thinks he’s hiding something, but he refuses to talk about himself,” she said, going through her notes. “And there’s another call from the Shifter Community Action Council. Their offices were targeted by a vandal last night and they think it’s a hate crime, but the cops didn’t have the time to do more than take a report.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said. “They’re always overworked. Anything else?”

“Yes, another message from someone wants us to investigate a theft. The man didn’t leave much of a message. I was getting ready to call all of them back.” She handed me the mail, which she had already opened and sorted.

I thumbed through it, scanning the contents. Sophia was responsible for paying the bills—I just signed the checks. She also gave me a report of monies collected from clients. The letters in my hand were reports, information, and othercommunications regarding cases we were working or already had worked.

“Schedule the SCAC representative right away. The other two, go ahead and make preliminary appointments so we can assess whether we can help them. Dante and I will be out of the office from 9:30 this morning till…I figure, possibly noon. So don’t schedule any appointments this afternoon until after 1:30.” I picked up my purse and backpack. “I’ll be in my office. Dante, follow?” As he swung in behind me, I turned back to Sophia. “Also, isn’t it time to schedule maintenance on the elevator? Contact the building owner, if you would.”

“Already on it,” she said as I headed toward my office, Dante in tow.

We entered my office and I tossed the mail on my desk, then hung up my jacket and backpack. I opened the blinds and glanced out into the alley. It was pouring again, which was typical for this time of year.

“How was your night?” Dante asked, dropping into one of the arm chairs opposite my desk. He was dressed relatively normally today, in tight white jeans, a gold sparkling shirt, and cowboy boots.

“Good,” I said. “Penn and I had a good time. Oh,” I added, glancing over at him. “She’s moving in with me!”

“What?” Dante straightened up. “I didn’t know you were looking for a roommate.”

“I wasn’t, but she needs to move, I have space, and I must admit, the idea of having somebody else in the house—especially a great friend—really appeals to me. You want to help us this weekend? We can make it a party.”

He snorted. “I hate moving, but for you and Penn? Sure. I’m in, though I have to leave at six. Hot date, you know.”

I rolled my eyes.

As I’d said, ever since I’d known Dante, he’d gone through one disastrous date after another. I’d rescued him more than once from some psycho bitch who had gotten hung up on him. Dante was a freak magnet, and he ended up attracting all the wrong women. Once, I’d had to save him from a woman who had a meltdown when she realized he thought they were just fuckbuddies. She’d cornered him in a closet with a massive cleaver.

Another time, I’d helped him cope with a stalker who was convinced he was going to marry her. And another time, I had strong-armed a father trying to force Dante into a shotgun wedding with his daughter, who insisted Dante had gotten her pregnant. But when she gave birth, the child was fully human, which wouldn’t be the case if Dante was the sperm donor. The list went on and on. At least he took breaks between dating spurts, but it had reached the point where I dreaded it when he was back on the apps.

“I promise you,” he said, “I won’t ask you to rescue me. I’m trying to be more selective about who I date.”

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