I wiped the last of the tears away with the palm of my hands then started up the car and drove home. Kristo’s little van was still at the front of my place. I parked just behind it, then climbed out. The TV was once again blasting full bore and, from the sound of it, it was a repeat of one of the weekend’s game. Kristo was on his knees next to the front gate, intently studying the section that scraped the concrete.
“I could shave this gate, you know,” he said, without looking up. “Otherwise you’re going to end up wrecking the hinges.”
“What year would you be intending to do it?” I asked, stepping over his crouched form.
“Oh, this year,” he said, all seriousness. “Probably in a week or so.”
“Okay. Guy’s paying you for the front door, by the way.”
Kristo nodded, moving the gate back and forth, his frown deepening. “He’s giving me first go at the wreckage from the demolition site he’s working. It’s amazing the stuff they throw out, you know. Most of its still very serviceable.”
I’d seen what he considered serviceable, and most of it belonged where it had originally been headed—the tip. I left the gnome crouched on the concrete and walked into the house.
Guy and Keale were sitting either end of the couch, beers in hand. I walked over to the TV and turned the sound down to a more normal level.
“Harri my friend,” Guy said, raising his beer in greeting. “How are you this fine day?”
I smiled. Ogres may be loud, they might keep your fridge and pantry empty, but at least they were always happy to see you. “You staying for lunch?”
“But of course.”
I glanced at Keale. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I have a few of these in me.” He shook the beer lightly.
I frowned. “Isn’t it a condition of bail that you don’t drink?”
“Nah. They didn’t mention booze, just the whole no flying outside work hours bit.”
I left them watching the game and walked into the kitchen to rustle up something to eat for us all. They wandered in just as I was finishing the last of the sandwiches.
Guy parked on a chair and grabbed several sandwiches. “Keale was saying you don’t think his accident was an accident.”
I poured myself a coffee then picked out a couple of salmon sandwiches and sat down opposite the two of them. “He also thinks I’m grabbing at straws, but there’s just too many coincidences stacking up for my liking.”
“Need any help?”
“Maybe.” I took a bite of my lunch, then said, “I don’t suppose you know anyone in the removal van business, do you?”
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca’s next door neighbor told me she used a removal van with the logo of a truck doing wheelies, and the word express on it. I haven’t been able to find it in the yellow pages.”
“I think Shemp has family in the business, so he might be able to help.”
“I take it from that comment,” Keale cut in, “That you didn’t manage to chase up Rebecca?”
“No. She wasn’t at work, and she’s vacated the house.” I picked up another sandwich and bit into it. “James the bartender told me she reported in sick a few days ago, and hasn’t been sighted since.”
“James, heh?”
I grinned. “He’s lovely, but not my type.”
“This,” Guy said heavily, “from the woman who was complaining not so long ago that her love life was as sparse as the hairs on Kristo’s head.”
“I resent that,” came Kristo’s comment. “Even my hair isn’t that sparse!”
“What, my love life has become a neighborhood topic now?”
“I’m afraid so.” Keale’s solemn expression was somewhat destroyed by the amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “But it’s easily fixed. Just find yourself a decent man.”
I snorted softly. “Yeah, it’s that easy.”
Guy waved a hand airily. “I’m sure it could be, if you really wanted it bad enough.”
“Listen,” I said, somewhat exasperated. “We’re supposed to be talking about Keale’s love life, not mine.”
“Oh. Yeah. Rebecca.” Keale took a swig of beer. “Haven’t heard from her, and she didn’t leave any messages for me.”
“And you have no idea how to contact her?”
“Nope. Dragon ladies like to take the lead, and it’s not worth arguing with them. She always contacted me, not the other way around.”
So Rebecca was a dead end, unless we could find the removal van or rental car. I munched on my sandwich for several minutes, then said, “Did she mention friends, or family, or anything that would give as a clue as to where she might be?”
He shook his head. “She was in season. We had mad sex, not conversation. But I could try the union. She might be a member.”
I nodded. It wasn’t compulsory for people to belong to unions these days and, as a result, the League of Australian Dragons—like most other unions—had steadily falling numbers. I suspected the current climate of reasonable working conditions made many think the unions were superfluous.
“Do it. We need to find out what happened during those hours you can’t remember.”
“Why? I wasn’t even with her the night I ended up over the city.”
“I know. I just want to talk to her.”
“If there is Prevoron in my system, she could hardly have given it to me. As I said, I didn’t see her.”
I nodded, and told him what the nosy neighbor had reported. He frowned. “Well, it couldn’t have been me she spotted. As I keep saying, I wasn’t there.”
And he could keep on saying it, as far as I was concerned. It wouldn’t change my mind that there was something rather odd about her abrupt departure.
Guy grabbed another sandwich, then said, “I’m gathering from your expression you suspect Rebecca might have given Keale the Prevoron.”
“If there is Prevoron,” Keale commented dryly. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’d love there to me a more reasonable explanation other than my own stupidity, but to suspect Rebecca? When she wasn’t with me that night?”
I half-shrugged. “I know, but it all just feels wrong. I mean, think about it. You have a night you can’t remember and end up smashing into a helicopter, and the very next day, she disappears? Doesn’t that seem a little bit odd to either of you?”
“We don’t know she’s disappeared,” Keale stated. “She might have just moved out. Dragons aren’t always welcome in neighborhoods, especially during the mating period. In fact, I was a little surprised she’d chosen to remain there—most females retreat to the country during breeding season.”
“Keale, she moved out a week and a half after moving in. That’s a bit suss, whichever way you look at it.”
“Never trust a woman,” Guy said solemnly.
Keale snorted. “This from the ogre who only has to have an ogress look his way, and he’s her floormat.”
“Have you seen the size of some of them ogresses? You’d be a floormat too, man.”
I grinned, then glanced around as Delilah stomped in. She’d obviously not had a good run on the bus this morning—her hair was all over the place, and there were bits of rolled up lolly paper hanging off the ends like Christmas baubles. “That Kristo still here?”
“Out the front—why?” I asked.
“The bloody mirror in my bathroom is smashed.”
“Is it any bloody wonder,” Keale muttered.
Guy snorted, then clapped a hand over his mouth when Delilah glared at him. “I’m not laughing,” he mumbled between his fingers. “Really, I’m not.”
Delilah harrumphed then headed up the hall, shouting Kristo’s name as Keale and Guy burst into laughter. The phone chose that moment to ring, so I retreated into the living room to answer it.
“Harri? Darryl here.”
“How’d you go with Mona’s accounts?” I asked, muting the TV. I knew from Kaij that the money hadn’t made it into them, but it would have seemed suspicious if I didn’t ask. I didn’t want him knowing I’d been talking to PIT—he might decide to clam up.
“No luck, money wise. I got a copy of her statement—her account hasn’t been touched in over a week.”
“Listen, I have her cliental list here—I don’t suppose you can do some snooping, and see if any of them might have suddenly come into a fair bit of cash?”
“I can try. No promises though—most people tend to be tight lipped when it comes to their activities with sirens.”
He gave me his phone number. I quickly scrawled it down, then said, “I bet most wouldn’t want to get involved with a police investigation, either. They might prefer talking to you over the police.”
“I’m betting they’ll talk to you easier than me. And you’re easier on the eye, as well.”
I smiled at the compliment. “Thanks, but I have to tread a little lightly at the moment.”
“Given who could be involved, I can understand that need.”
“Yeah. Oh, and the cops are looking for you. If you don’t want to talk to them, avoid your office for a while.”
“Thanks for the tip. Send me that list, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Darryl.”
I hung up, then headed upstairs. The desktops were still bereft of their hard drives, so I hauled out one of the old laptops and spent the rest of the day doing what little paperwork there was and confirming the photographic appointments I had for the rest of the week. It was those appointments that were keeping us afloat at the moment—as Ceri had noted, we really did need business to take off soon, otherwise we’d be in real financial straights.
Once four o’clock rolled around, I headed downstairs and started preparing for Val’s dinner get-together. Keale was asleep on the couch, and Guy was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the beer had run out again.
