Page 150 of Cold, Cold Bones
“I see that dude coming, I go the other way.”
“Why?” I prodded.
“Don’t like him.”
“Why?”
“Don’t know.”
“When did you last see Winky?”
“Don’t know.”
Ryan crossed his arms. “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”
“Socrates.” Jabbing one chubby finger toward Ryan. “You’re grooving, man. Sorry. Time to bounce. Got a seminar on existential philo at seven.”
Hersh shoved his hands into his pockets and started up the street, shiny denim sculpting his sizable buttocks. Six paces out, he stopped and turned back.
“Idoknow something.” Again, the pointing finger. “The last time I saw your daughter she was with another chick. I remember thinking they both looked buff, and that I should get my fat ass to a gym. I was outside smoking, like tonight, caught a few phrases as they passed by. PTSD. VA. EMDR. I figured they were army buds.”
“When was this?” Heart now thundering like hoofbeats.
“Probably the week before last. But it could have been earlier. Time is but celestial motion.”
“Can you describe the other woman?”
“Not really.”
“Tall, short, fat, thin?”
“Tall. But then everyone looks tall to me.”
“That’s it?”Easy, Brennan.
“It was cold. Both were wearing hats and scarves.”
With that, Hersh left for his class.
Ryan and I entered Roof Above. The lobby smelled exactly as it had on my earlier visit: Pine-Sol, cooking grease, and unwashed clothing. And was equally empty.
M. Zucker sat behind her glass barrier. She smiled at seeing me, but not as broadly as on our first encounter.
“You still looking for your daughter?” she asked, angling her brows to look appropriately sympathetic.
“I am.”
“Still haven’t seen her. But I did ask around. Seems no one has.” The brows dipped lower. “I’m sure she just needs time to herself.”
I asked a few more questions, then, knowing further probing would produce nothing, I repeated the same request as on my initial visit. As before, M. Zucker promised to phone should she see Katy. As before, I left my card.
We were almost at my Mazda when Ryan’s mobile rang. He clicked to speakerphone and held it between us.
“We got us a whole new ball game.” Slidell sounded simultaneously furious and jazzed. “The Lakins just got a ransom call.”
Ryan and I looked at each other in shock.
“That doesn’t fit the pattern,” I said.
