course. But—” She shrugged. “We support our own, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. But then I’m a Mac user, ever since the very first Apples came on the market. Maybe no one in Hell knew quite how devoted I was to my lightweight titanium Powerbook.
“Now, just a few preliminaries and I’ll start immediately. I’ll need names, of course, and all the contact information, and anything else you have. Also, some personal item of the search target does help us narrow things down far more quickly.”
I’d have to ask Desi if she had anything of Steve’s. A personal item, or even better, something that had been part of him—like a hair—would be best. I obediently gave the kitty demon all the information I possessed about Steve Balducci and Nathan Coleman. Which was very little indeed.
“But I don’t think I have anything of his,” I said, trying to remember if he’d left me anything. Oh, right, he’d given me his card. I dragged out my Treo, input the information, and then handed the card over. “For all the good it will do. It’s not very personal.”
“Hmmmm.” The Librarian studied it and, miracle of miracles, actually appeared interested. “Well, we’ll see. It was on his body and in his hand for a while, though your emanations might have overridden the original information. I’ll have to see what I can do. And the other, this Steve Balducci?”
“Just a sec.” I hit Desi’s speed dial number in the Treo and prayed she’d pick up. Sometimes when she’s in a real funk she hides the phone or just lets it ring and then doesn’t retrieve the voice mail for days.
“Pick up, Des, pick up,” I muttered. I didn’t realize I’d said anything aloud until Azoked gave me a startled glance.
Finally Desi decided to answer her phone. Or maybe it was buried in her purse again and she hadn’t found it too easily.
“What?” she asked abruptly, as if I hadn’t spent most of my day trying to take care of her.
“I’ve got a librarian right here this minute, Des. Think. Do you have anything of Steve’s? Anything at all that would link to him.”
“No,” she answered too quickly. “And if I did have anything I’d have thrown it out.”
“Think, Des.” She’d been better at dinner, but had obviously come home and indulged in a good cry. “A librarian could use it to trace him. It would make our pursuit much easier.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause, and then she asked if she could call back. I shot a glance at Azoked, who stared down her nose stonily, and said if she found anything she should let me know.
“I have about two thousand possible Nathan Colemans and Nathan R. Colemans, but this one looks promising.” The Siamese cat Librarian had that lilt to her voice that meant she had something you really wanted to hear and that she was waiting and holding out and maybe would tell you if you treated her particularly nicely.
“Would you like some coffee?” I offered. “Shade-grown Kenyan, and I grind the beans fresh.”
“That will do,” the Librarian took the bribe. “You do have real cream, don’t you? And some biscuits? I would love a biscuit.”
“Biscuits?” Where was I going to get biscuits at this time of night? As if I ever had such things in the house anyway.
“Yes, of course. To go with the coffee. You don’t even have any chocolate chips in the house?” She sighed as if she were much put upon.
“Oh, cookies!” I said. Why was an Akashic Librarian using Britspeak? “I have Oreos and Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos, if those will do.”
“The Milanos are acceptable,” she agreed. “Though I prefer bakery biscuits. Especially Florentines. Next time please see to the Florentines.”
What a bitch! She was in my apartment and I was brewing her coffee and then she ordered me to have her favorite snacks on hand whenever she calls. And who knew when that would be. She worked for Satan, same as me.
I was steaming mad, but there wasn’t a lot I could really do about
I rolled my eyes. But then I’m a Mac user, ever since the very first Apples came on the market. Maybe no one in Hell knew quite how devoted I was to my lightweight titanium Powerbook.
“Now, just a few preliminaries and I’ll start immediately. I’ll need names, of course, and all the contact information, and anything else you have. Also, some personal item of the search target does help us narrow things down far more quickly.”
I’d have to ask Desi if she had anything of Steve’s. A personal item, or even better, something that had been part of him—like a hair—would be best. I obediently gave the kitty demon all the information I possessed about Steve Balducci and Nathan Coleman. Which was very little indeed.
“But I don’t think I have anything of his,” I said, trying to remember if he’d left me anything. Oh, right, he’d given me his card. I dragged out my Treo, input the information, and then handed the card over. “For all the good it will do. It’s not very personal.”
“Hmmmm.” The Librarian studied it and, miracle of miracles, actually appeared interested. “Well, we’ll see. It was on his body and in his hand for a while, though your emanations might have overridden the original information. I’ll have to see what I can do. And the other, this Steve Balducci?”
“Just a sec.” I hit Desi’s speed dial number in the Treo and prayed she’d pick up. Sometimes when she’s in a real funk she hides the phone or just lets it ring and then doesn’t retrieve the voice mail for days.
“Pick up, Des, pick up,” I muttered. I didn’t realize I’d said anything aloud until Azoked gave me a startled glance.
Finally Desi decided to answer her phone. Or maybe it was buried in her purse again and she hadn’t found it too easily.
“What?” she asked abruptly, as if I hadn’t spent most of my day trying to take care of her.
“I’ve got a librarian right here this minute, Des. Think. Do you have anything of Steve’s? Anything at all that would link to him.”
“No,” she answered too quickly. “And if I did have anything I’d have thrown it out.”
“Think, Des.” She’d been better at dinner, but had obviously come home and indulged in a good cry. “A librarian could use it to trace him. It would make our pursuit much easier.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause, and then she asked if she could call back. I shot a glance at Azoked, who stared down her nose stonily, and said if she found anything she should let me know.
“I have about two thousand possible Nathan Colemans and Nathan R. Colemans, but this one looks promising.” The Siamese cat Librarian had that lilt to her voice that meant she had something you really wanted to hear and that she was waiting and holding out and maybe would tell you if you treated her particularly nicely.
“Would you like some coffee?” I offered. “Shade-grown Kenyan, and I grind the beans fresh.”
“That will do,” the Librarian took the bribe. “You do have real cream, don’t you? And some biscuits? I would love a biscuit.”
“Biscuits?” Where was I going to get biscuits at this time of night? As if I ever had such things in the house anyway.
“Yes, of course. To go with the coffee. You don’t even have any chocolate chips in the house?” She sighed as if she were much put upon.
“Oh, cookies!” I said. Why was an Akashic Librarian using Britspeak? “I have Oreos and Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos, if those will do.”
“The Milanos are acceptable,” she agreed. “Though I prefer bakery biscuits. Especially Florentines. Next time please see to the Florentines.”
What a bitch! She was in my apartment and I was brewing her coffee and then she ordered me to have her favorite snacks on hand whenever she calls. And who knew when that would be. She worked for Satan, same as me.
I was steaming mad, but there wasn’t a lot I could really do about
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