Page 122 of Power of the Mind

“Uh-huh. I’m with you so far, D. I know it’s against your religion, but talk faster. I’m almost there, and our conversation will be over the second I park.”

“He was fired because he was arrested last Wednesday.”

“For possession and intent to distribute. Yeah, I got that much from your talk with Kitty.”

“He was a delivery driver.”

God help me. The man truly did need a manual when it came to the art of conversation. His bite-sized pieces, delivered at random, were going to make me pull my hair out. At least we seemed to have moved beyond grunts and growls.

Mostly.

“More, D. Give me more.”

“Brodie Newall.”

I blew out my cheeks as I pulled down Madame Rowena’s street. Memphis was on foot, walking toward her house. I pulled up alongside him. Memphis halted when he saw who it was, but his expression was drenched in irritation.

“D, hang on.” Powering down the window, I addressed my best friend. “Get in.”

“No.”

“I looked the kid up,” Diem said, ignoring my request.

“Great. Hang on, D. Get. In the. Car.” I smacked the passenger seat and narrowed my eyes at my best friend.

“Brodie’s father is Milton Newall.”

“Diem! I can’t believe I have to say this, but shut up for a minute.” To Memphis, “Bitch, if I have to get out and physically deposit you into this vehicle, I will.”

Diem breathed his purposeful breathing, and Memphis stared his purposeful stare.

I threw my hands up. “I hate you both right now. All I wanted to do was investigate my case. Was that too much to ask?”

“His mother is Sandra Morgenstern,” Diem said, deciding to continue.

Memphis marched down the road toward Rowena’s.

Great. Perfect. It was like trying to tame two delinquent toddlers.

“D, that means absolutely nothing to me, and I have a bigger problem to deal with because Memphis weighs at least as much as me, and I’ve made a threat I’m not sure I can follow through with. You get me?”

“She worked in Stratford at Thrill Ville fair from eighty-six to ninety-two.”

I wanted to scream.

Moving the car, I pulled up alongside Memphis. “Memph,” I whined, changing tactics. “Please stop.”

Memphis glared. He had a look about him. One I recognized. If I didn’t give him my full attention immediately, I would not win this fight.

“Diem, let me be the first to congratulate you on using your words. I’m sure this information means something to you, but it means nothing to me at the moment. I have to go, or I will no longer have a best friend. I’ll call you when I finish my investigation into Madame Mania, and we can chat some more. Compare notes.” I hung up.

Pouting, I met Memphis’s gaze. “Fine. You win. I’ll get you that new shirt,andyou can visit your toe-tickling friend and pick out shoes to match.”

Memphis arched a brow. “You for real?”

“I don’t joke about shoes.”

“That’s beyond your budget.”

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