'Warmth and fellow feeling. I must have the wrong number.'
'By a mile.'
'Where do I find Frank Grice?'
'You don't find Frank Grice. If I want Frank Grice, I find Frank Grice. Do I want him?'
'I have no idea. Did you test those guns?'
'Yeah.' 'And?'
'Smith, I told you, stay the hell out of my case.'
I eased a cigarette from my shirt pocket. 'No, you didn't. You told me not to withhold evidence and not to get in your way.'
His voice was impatient. 'How do they do this in the big city? They write you a Dear John letter? This is a police investigation and you're included out.'
'Actually, it's not. What I want Grice for is something different.' So far, I added silently.
'Yeah? What?'
'Tell me about the guns.'
'The guns were a washout. Your turn.'
My turn. 'Mark Sanderson asked me to find his daughter. I think Frank Grice knows where she is.' Close enough, I thought, and all true.
Silence. I had an image of MacGregor rubbing tired eyes. Then, 'I hear she's with Jimmy Antonelli.'
'You listen to the wrong little birds.'
'That so? What tree do you recommend?'
'The Creekside Tavern.'
'Some swell dive.'
'Grice owns it. Ginny's been hanging out there lately.'
'How do you know this?'
'Jimmy's friends could tell you.'
'They haven't yet. Of course that crowd wouldn't tell me it was raining if I was standing there getting soaked.'
'So where do I find him?'
'Forget it, Smith. Do yourself a favor. Go home, light a fire, have a drink. Let me play policeman.' 'Mac—'
'Or do yourself an even bigger favor. Go back to the city.'
'Brinkman hinted he'd rather I didn't do that.'
'I'll tell him he changed his mind.'
'Mac, what the hell's going on?' I moved the phone to my right ear, rolled my left shoulder to ease the ache.
'Nothing's going on, except I've got a rent-a-cop on the phone too dumb to know good advice when he hears it.'
'I want to find Ginny Sanderson.'
'I'll deal with it.'
'How? When? The kid's been missing for three days.'
'Depends how you define missing.'
'She hasn't been home. Her father doesn't know where she is and he's worried. He's a shit, but he's her father and he's worried. How's that?'
'You know that kid, Smith? You know her father?'
'A little,' I offered, ambiguously.
'Well, the kid takes after her mother and her father still hasn't caught on.'
'Caught on to what?'
'Christ, where've you been? Lena Sanderson ran around, almost from the day they were married. Everyone knew it but Sanderson. He was the only one surprised when she left him.'
'And Ginny s like her mother?'
'We've hauled her in three times since she was thirteen.'
'For what?'
'Knowing the wrong people. And this is a kid doesn't live in the county, Smith. She's away at school making trouble there most of the time.'
'Not now.'
