“I’m not, um…” Bernie began, and then came to a halt.
Carla, kind of hesitant, reached out and touched Bernie’s shoulder. He looked up. “Not my place to say anything,” she said.
“No fair to stop now,” Bernie told her.
“Maybe I shouldn’t admit it,” Carla said, “but sometimes I’ve found wisdom in sappy song lyrics.”
Bernie smiled. “Like?” he said.
“‘Once you have found her, never let her go,’” said Carla. “Just an example.” Did her eyes well up? I didn’t get a good look because she walked away immediately, headed toward the street. “Almost forgot.” She turned and reached into her purse, her eyes now definitely dry. “Can Chet have a treat?”
“Don’t see why not,” Bernie said. And what was this? Now his eyes were a bit misty? Was everyone getting all emotional about my treat? That was nice, but totally unnecessary. “Did you have breakfast, big guy?” Bernie said. I couldn’t remember. “And even if he did, he hasn’t had a bite since then.” I found myself licking my muzzle, not sure why. The next thing I knew I was taking an extra-large size biscuit-my favorite of all the possible sizes- from Carla’s hand, gently but firmly.
She walked across the street. At that moment I happened to see the stone stairs leading up to city hall, and there was Cal Luxton in a dark suit, watching us from the topmost step. I looked at Bernie. He was checking his cell phone. I got a bit uneasy and barked a short, sharp bark. Bernie glanced down at me. “What’s up, Chet?” Then he turned to city hall. Carla was just going through the door and there was no sign of Luxton. I barked again. “You’ve had your biscuit,” Bernie said. “Don’t be greedy.”
Greedy? A new one on me. I was wondering whether to try puzzling it out when the old dude on the bench woke up and started going on about a hot dog, or something like that, hard to tell on account of most of his teeth being missing. Bernie made this quick little clicking sound in his mouth that means time to split. We split.
A taxi was idling in front of our place on Mesquite Road. The rear door opened as we parked in the driveway and a young blond woman in a very small dress jumped out and ran up to us.
“Felicity?” Bernie said. “Something wrong?”
Felicity: Thad’s girlfriend. The connection came to me with amazing speed, not always the case. There’s a lot to keep track of in our line of work. Try it sometime.
Felicity nodded, a real quick and nervous nod. Nervous humans had a special smell, sort of thin and sour, and Felicity was giving off plenty of it. Bernie lost control of his gaze for a moment-oh, Bernie-and it slipped down to the top of her very small dress. But he snapped that gaze right back up to her eyes in a flash-so quick for Bernie, really on his game today-big, golden brown eyes, with tears maybe on the way at any moment.
“What is it?” Bernie said.
“Thad,” she said. “I think he’s gone on one of his rambles.”
“Rambles?” said Bernie. “A kind of hike?”
She shook her head, again with that same nervous speed. One Christmas when Charlie was younger-and completely by accident-I’d taken apart this little wind-up bear that banged on a drum when the key got turned-well, who wouldn’t have? — and all these springs had come springing out. I thought of that now, not sure why; funny how the mind worked.
“Rambles is Thad’s word for it,” Felicity said. “It’s kind of a…” Her eyes shifted. She was searching for a word. Humans had so many, no surprise when one or two got lost. They did lots of struggling in life-humans, I mean-but no time to go into that now.
“Euphemism?” Bernie said, losing me completely.
But not Felicity. She nodded, a calmer movement this time. “You’re smart,” she said. “That’s what Thad says-you’re smart in the old-fashioned way.”
The old-fashioned way? And every other possible way, amigo.
“Euphemism for what?” Bernie said.
The taxi driver stuck his head out the window; he needed a shave and a haircut. “Hey, lady, wan’ me to wait or what? Meter’s tickin’.”
Bernie made a little flick flick motion with the back of his hand-had I ever seen him do that before? I loved it! — and the window slid back up.
“Thad… goes off by himself sometimes,” Felicity said.
“With Jiggs?” Bernie said.
“No.”
“Isn’t that hard for someone in his position?” Bernie said. “So recognizable?”
“He’s, um, not thinking straight when these things happen,” Felicity said.
“Drugs?” Bernie said.
“You can never say anything,” Felicity said. “Promise?”
“I can promise I won’t say anything in order to profit from the knowledge or simply hurt Thad,” Bernie said. “Making it a promise with limits.”
Felicity gazed at Bernie, then blinked and turned away. “Why is everything always like this?” she said. Hey! For a moment she looked like a little kid, not much older than Charlie.
Bernie didn’t speak. He just stood there. I sat beside him. We could keep that up for a long time, me and Bernie. It was one of our techniques at the Little Detective Agency. We’ve got lots.
She faced Bernie, met his gaze. I was starting to like her. “All right,” she said. “Thad has-I wouldn’t say a problem, more like the occasional issue with drugs.”
“What drugs?”
“I’m not really sure-it can be just about anything.”
“Have you ever seen him inject himself?”
“Oh, no, never never,” Felicity said. “And I don’t want you to think it’s this humongous deal, not compared with… well, how things go down in the industry.”
“Then let’s forget all about it,” Bernie said.
There was hardness in Bernie-although never when it came to the two of us, goes without mentioning. His hardness, when it showed up, had an effect that you could see in people’s faces. I saw it now in Felicity’s.
“You’re not going to help me?” she said.
“Help you do what?” said Bernie.
“Find him,” Felicity said. “His next call’s for eight tomorrow morning.”
“He’s the star. They’ll wait for him.”
“Maybe if there hadn’t been… an incident or two in the past. Now there’s a nonperformance clause in his contract.”
“Saying what?”
“I haven’t actually read it.” Felicity laughed, one of those quiet little laughs meaning… what? Something was only a little bit funny? I didn’t know. “Neither has Thad. But I heard Nan talking about it with the agent. It’s all about big fines and how they can fire him whenever they want.”
“And he signed?”
“Thad signs tons of stuff. He doesn’t even look. He’s just a child sometimes-which is where his art comes from, I’m sure of it-and all these vultures-” Felicity’s voice got real thick, meaning the tears were on the way at last. Instead, a bit of a surprise: she fought them off, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes and stiffening her whole body. The expression in Bernie’s eyes changed.
“Any idea where he went?” Bernie said.
“I woke up in the middle of the night and he was gone. He took Jiggs’s car.”
“With permission?”
She shook her head. “Jiggs is pretty pissed.” And then came some more about Jiggs, maybe how he was out looking for Thad but had a poor record of finding him in the past, Thad always coming back on his own when good and ready, but I couldn’t concentrate on account of my mind suddenly snapping back to vultures. I was pretty sure Felicity had mentioned them, and if vultures were in the case, we had problems. Birds in general bothered me. Why those angry little eyes? Would I be angry if I could soar around the big blue sky all day? And vultures were the worst. I’ve been circled by them. I know.
“Does Thad have any friends or acquaintances in the Valley?” Bernie was saying.
“Nobody,” said Felicity. “Not that he’s ever mentioned to me.”
