from their joined hands, inches from the ground, releasing it, laughing when it landed upright.
'Who knew they sold that stuff in plastic bottles,' Mason said.
'Only at the really good convenience stores,' she said, Mason stroking her cheek, brushing her hair back, smiling like he had a secret.
'What?' she asked.
'Nothing,' Mason said. 'I was just thinking that magic and miracles aren't often found on rooftops.'
'You said it was a nice roof.'
'That I did,' he said, kissing her again, feeling her warmth and the soft comfort of her body against his.
'It's gone,' she said as the sun disappeared. 'Think we should eat dinner?'
'I'd hate to disappoint the cook.'
'I'd hate to disappoint the rotisserie chicken I bought at Costco. I promised the butcher I'd give it a good home,' she said.
'We could give the chicken a reprieve,' he said, gathering her in his arms again, his cell phone ringing, Mason ignoring it until Abby plucked it off the clip on his belt.
'The client is job one,' she said, handing him the phone and kissing the tip of his nose.
'Mason!' Centurion Johnson said. 'That bitch of yours done cleaned out her room, split, and stole my god- damn Mercedes!'
Chapter 13
'I'm going with you,' Abby told Mason.
'Bad idea. I don't even know where I'm going.'
'Of course you do. You're going to find Jordan and I'm going with you.'
Mason picked up the bottle of wine. 'It would be better if you chilled this until I came back.'
'I'll let it turn to vinegar first. Don't patronize me, Lou. If it will make you feel any better, I don't want to lose three hundred thousand dollars on a hunch and a prayer that Jordan may be my daughter.'
Mason did a double take. 'I wouldn't have pegged you for a mercenary.'
'I'm not. I'm giving you a reason I'm going with you that you can justify without giving me a bunch of crap about being an emotional female who will get in the way.'
'You're good at this public relations stuff,' he said.
'I'm the best. Let's get going.'
Mason called Jordan's parents, counting it as his first break when Carol Hackett answered. If Arthur knew that his daughter was missing, he'd call the cops and Jordan would be back in jail. Mason wasn't certain she didn't belong there. He wasn't certain of anything, including her innocence. That's why he had to find her. Carol Hackett hadn't heard from Jordan. Mason didn't tell Carol that Jordan had disappeared, and Carol didn't ask the reason for his call. Sometimes, Mason realized, denial came in handy.
Mason and Abby sat in Mason's TR-6 at the curb in front of Abby's building, Mason realizing how little he knew about his client, who her friends were, where she liked to hang out, anything that would help him find her.
Abby said, 'Any chance Jordan just took Centurion's Mercedes for a joy ride or that she went shopping with a girlfriend?'
'Centurion said she cleaned out her room. Didn't even leave a toothbrush. Doesn't sound like she was planning on coming back.'
'If she's running away, that Mercedes is going to be easy to find,' Abby said. 'Did Centurion report the car as stolen?'
'Not yet,' Mason said. 'My guess is that Centurion doesn't want the cops crawling all over it. A car like that with an owner like Centurion may have a few secrets of its own.'
'So where do we go? I don't think she's going to drive by and wave while we sit here,' Abby said.
'The last time she skipped out, she went to Gina Davenport's office looking for a diary she'd given to Gina. Maybe she went back to get something else.'
The Cable Depot was five minutes from Abby's loft. Mason took his time, circling the streets within several blocks of the Depot.
'Looking for a good parking space?' Abby asked.
'We're looking for Centurion's Mercedes. It has a vanity plate with his name on it. Last time, Jordan parked somewhere around here.'
'We've taken the tour three times,' Abby said a short while later. 'The car isn't here.'
Mason edged the nose of the TR-6 down an alley behind a row of apartment buildings two blocks south of the Cable Depot. The Mercedes was wedged between two buildings, blocking a side alley. Mason climbed out of his car, peered through the tinted windows, jiggled the locked doors and trunk, and called Mickey Shanahan.
'I lost the keys to my Mercedes,' Mason told Mickey.
'Boss, you don't own a Mercedes.'
'If I did and I lost the keys, could you unlock it for me?'
'Piece of cake. Where's this Mercedes you don't own and can't find the keys for?'
Mason told him. 'Bring Blues. Tell him there may be some dirty laundry in the car. Take it somewhere we can get a closer look at it.'
Abby said, 'Tell me you aren't stealing that car.'
'I'm not stealing that car,' Mason said. 'According to Centurion, it's already been stolen. I'm just helping him get it back.'
Abby laughed, leaving out the humor. 'If Centurion buys that story, I'm hiring you to do my PR.'
Earl Luke Fisher was camped out on the park bench across the street from the Cable Depot, a grocery cart crammed with stuffed black trash bags screening him from the street. Though Mason had watched the Channel 6 videotape enough times that he could pick Fisher out of a hobo convention, he asked to be polite.
'You Earl Luke Fisher?' Mason asked.
Earl Luke was stretched out on the bench, using a filthy bedroll as a pillow, the green neck of a bottle sticking out of a brown bag nestled under one arm like the favorite stuffed animal a child took to bed. Mason and Abby caught their breath; Earl Luke reeked like warm garbage on a hot day. If begging didn't work out, he could rent himself out as a breeding ground for bluebottle flies.
'Mebbe,' Earl Luke muttered.
'I saw you on TV,' Mason said.
Earl Luke sat up, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes, ignoring Mason. 'Pretty lady,' he said to Abby, giving her a jack-o'-lantern smile showcasing his few remaining teeth. 'I was on TV, you know.'
'I've got a videotape of it. Any time you want to watch it, you give me a call,' Mason told him, handing him a business card. 'How long have you been here tonight?'
Earl Luke wiped his face with his hands, trying to focus on something so unimportant to him as the time. He pulled the bottle of wine from the paper bag, measuring how much remained with his fingers.
'A while,' he said. 'Since before dark. This is my spot,' he added, making it clear that was explanation enough.
'Did you see a woman go into that building? A young woman with brown hair, probably wearing jeans and a T-shirt.'
Earl Luke took a long pull on his bottle and flashed his horror-show gums at Abby.
'It's very important, Mr. Fisher,' Abby said. 'I'd really appreciate any help you can give me.'
Earl Luke lit up with a glow he wouldn't find in the wine bottle. 'Yes, ma'am,' he told her. 'I seen that girl a while ago.'
'Has she come back out?' Abby asked.
'Don't know,' Earl Luke said. 'My eyes ain't what they used to be. The VA, they used to gimme glasses, but I quit going over there. They was always talking to me 'bout getting into some goddamn program or 'nother. Shit, I say to those goddamn bureaucrats! I ain't never comin' back to your goddamn hospital, I tole 'em, and by God, I
