A gray-haired, very tan and fit gentleman who made me reflexively think of George Hamilton approached me. He had the faint scent of soap and Royal Eagle cologne. We shook hands, a good solid, “Hey, let’s build a relationship where you give me all of your money, and I charge you to use it” kind of handshake. He did a very good job of not seeming weirded-out by how sketchy I looked.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said in slightly accented English. “How can we help you today?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I work for Theo Ankou.” I handed him one of the cards Vigil had given me a stack of. The card stating that I, under an assumed name, was a consultant for the Arcadia Group, Ankou’s umbrella of legit corporations. I waited to see the name sink in behind the banker’s eyes. “Mr. Ankou is considering doing some business with your institution, and I wanted to sit down and discuss that with somebody.” The smile was in danger of splitting his face in half as it grew past human limits.
“Of course, sir,” he said. “If you’ll step into my office here…”
“That will be fine,” I said, as I stopped him at his own door, “but I want to discuss it with her,” and pointed to Dree, who was just finishing up with a customer at her desk.
“Oh, I’m afraid Dree isn’t an executive accounts supervisor,” he said, like everyone would know what the fuck that was, “but I’ll be more than happy to see to Mr. Ankou’s—”
“Mr. Ankou said I talk to her, or he’ll take his business elsewhere,” I said. The smile dimmed a bit, but the guy was good, and he was obviously very adept at dealing with the mad requests of rich douchebags. He nodded and gestured toward Dree, who look confused, but also put on her best customer service smile and walked over, heels clicking.
“Dree,” the tanned man said, “Mr.…”
“Hammett,” I said, “Dashiell Hammett,” and shook Dree’s hand. She smiled, I smiled, management guy smiled. Somewhere, puppies and children smiled. A tear came to my eye.
“Mr. Hammett wants to discuss some new corporate account business with you.”
“Certainly, Mr. Hammett,” Dree said, shaking my hand and nodding. She glanced at her boss for a second but stayed cool as she did it. She had obviously learned from the master.
“If you need anything or have any questions, please let me know,” the manager said. “Please use my office so you can have some privacy.” We entered the manager’s office. It was all mahogany wood and leather furniture. Dree closed the door and sat behind the moat of a desk. I sat in one of the comfy chairs before it.
“Thanks,” I said. “Okay, first things first. I am working for Theodore Ankou, and I’ll make sure he parks some of his wealth in your bank and that you get credit for that, Dree, but I need to have a conversation with you, and I need you to be straight with me. I need to know where Caern Ankou is.”
Dree’s eyes darkened. “Get the fuck out of here,” she said.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and clutched the makeshift doll I had fashioned at lunch and focused the energies of my Manipura chakra, my will, stoked them, and then connected to Dree through the sympathetic connection of her hair. I had sensed her slight attraction toward me when I walked in, and I knew from her apartment she was a very sensual person, so I focused her Svadhisthana chakra, her desire. I knew the initial response would be one of arousal and confusion—why the fuck would she be so turned on by some sketchy old bastard here under false pretenses looking for her friend?
“If you insist,” I said and stood, headed for the door.
“Wait,” she said, visibly flushed. “Don’t go. Please sit down.” It worked. Score one for Team Manipulative Bastard. “Why are you looking for her? Is it her father? You said you worked for him.”
“Yes,” I said and eased up a little on her sacral chakra. It would be hard for her to think of much else if I didn’t, and I needed her thinking with her brain, not her glands. “He’s worried about her, just wants to know she’s safe and happy. I’m not here to drag her home if she doesn’t want that. Just checking in.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “That sure doesn’t sound like old Theo to me.”
“Did Caern talk a lot about him? He the reason she took off?”
“Pretty much,” Dree said. I could tell her head was clearing, and I could see the nagging doubt struggling in her mind. She was questioning why she was telling me anything. I flexed my will and sent the power of it straight into her Svadhisthana again, through the genetic ace up my sleeve I had with her hair. This was bad fucking shit I was doing, and I knew it, and as usual, I kept right on doing it. “He was so controlling after Caern’s mom died, afraid she was going to break like a china doll. She really loved her mom. I wish I had gotten a chance to meet her.”
“How did you two meet?” I asked. She was relaxing again, fascinated by me and clueless why.
My dad is a career guy with Alpha,” she said. “Years ago, he got the job that Mr. Artino”—she nodded toward the tanned owner of the office—“has now, corporate accounts manager. We moved from the mainland to Spetses when I was nine. I met Caern that summer, when she and her dad came from Britain for holiday. When she moved here a few years later, we started hanging out all the time at my
