Page 38 of The Wild Moon
Whoever it was hadn’t programmed their voicemail. That was irritating because it gave me no clue as to who Aaron Greiss might be.
The tone beeped, and my message was live. I momentarily panicked, unable to say anything. Whoever listened to the message would hear nothing but heavy breathing at first, and boy, wouldn’t that be open to misinterpretation.
“I knew Thomas,” I said at last, unsure of why I opted to leave out that I was his daughter. “We need to meet. Walkers Bar. Four o’clock. Today. I’ll have the red hat on.”
Hanging up, I spent several long moments working to collect myself. There. I’d done it. I’d set the meeting with whoever was on the other end. This Aaron Greiss, an unknown contact of my father’s. There had to be a reason the business card was there. My father must have intended for me to call him.
Maybe he had information on my dad. I pushed that thought down. Hope wasn’t what I needed right now. Practicality, and information, those had to be my pillars.
I snatched up my phone and headed for the door. I had somewhere to be.
The trip across downtown took me about half an hour. It would have gone faster if I’d taken the bus, but I wasn’t about to spend money I didn’t have just to avoid walking. Not to mention, public transit in Kellar was always crowded, and there was always one person who decided to do something disgusting on the bus that went against all etiquette on how to be a human being.
Last time, it had been a lady shoving her face with sunflower seeds and leaving the drool-covered pile of shells on the seat next to her. Yuck.
As I walked, the buildings got cleaner and taller, and the architecture went from brick and concrete to glass. I was heading from the slums to uptown, where the money lived in the city. I didn’t like it. Everything was too modern. Too angular and lacking in character and diversity.
Give me my old farmhouse over a fortieth-floor condo any day. I’d take its creaks and charms and haphazard layout in a heartbeat before living in a place like this. To some people, though, this was their home or office. Or both. And if I wanted to get an update, it was where I had to go.
I paused outside an average tower. Some thirty floors, maybe more. Lots of glass. Gray exterior. No sign out front proclaiming any singular company’s dominance. The first time I’d visited, I’d sworn I was in the wrong place. Now I knew better, and I proceeded through the lobby with confidence, no longer shocked by the size of the arched ceilings like I had been seven months ago after being given the name by someone.
The elevators closed around another occupant and me, and I tried not to tap my foot in impatience as we paused at the fourth floor to let her out. It’s not like I was in any sort of hurry. I wasn’t late. Nor was I early. It’s impossible to be either of those when you didn’t have an appointment.
The elevator chimed as we hit the sixth floor, and I exited, my shoes echoing on the cold marble tile that had been installed in the exterior corridor. I passed by several office doors, each with a sharp placard labeling the business in gold lettering. Most were lawyers, though one was a publishing house that thought a little too highly of itself, in my opinion.
Then, I reached the one I wanted. The sign simply read,Finders.Nothing else. I’d thought it a bit presumptuous, but the more I’d learned about the reputation of the man inside, the more I figured it was an apt description.
I didn’t bother knocking, instead letting myself in. As usual, a woman with thick, beautiful curves sat behind the desk, her skin dark enough that it practically blended in with the expensive mahogany of the desk. She looked up, smiling to reveal perfectly white teeth.
“Miss Wetter,” she said.
It probably wasn’t a good sign that the smile faded as she said my name. Oh, well.
“We weren’t expecting you.”
“I know, Elaine,” I said, feigning a yawn. “That’s because if you do, he always makes it a point to be out of the office. Hence, I show up like this, and he has no choice but to meet with me.”
Elaine was, as far as I could tell, the only other employee who worked at the firm. She was there whenever I showed up. I had begun to harbor suspicions that one of the offices had been converted into a bedroom for her so that she was never far from work.
“Well, he’s—”
“I know,” I said, waving her off as I headed for the door behind her. “He’s not taking visitors. The usual. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him you tried to stop me.”
Elaine sighed, and I saw her reach surreptitiously for a buzzer on her desk that would alert him I was coming.
I grinned, tossing Elaine a wink. We played this out on a weekly schedule now, and she no longer bothered to try and stop me.
The door had one of those nearly opaque glass windows set into the upper half, the kind that muddies the view of what’s behind it, but if something dark moved against a bright background, you still saw it. As I approached, I saw a generic blob that had to be the man himself get up and rush for the door.
“Hello, Max!” I boomed, strolling into his office, intercepting him just shy of the lock and deadbolt. “So nice of you to come and hold the door for me.”
Maxwell Simmons, best private investigator in all Kellar, so it was said, stared back at me with resigned anger in his dark brown gaze.
“Miss Wetter,” he said through gritted teeth, going along with my little charade. “So good to see you. Please, come in.”
He grabbed the door and held it open for me to walk in, though I knew full well he’d rather slam it shut in my face.Sometimes you have to play nice when the visitor is paying, Max. That’s just how life goes.
I almost went around the desk and plopped into Max’s seat, just to see his reaction, but I stopped short of that. Don’t let anyone say I’m not reasonable.
