Wanted: Undead or Alive

Maybe The Cat Did It

Mx. Landry met us in the garage. Their cigarette dangled from their lips. They had their arms crossed tightly over their chest. The sparkling eye shadow, always on point, had smudged as if from tears. Scraggly, untrimmed hairs stuck out of their beard.

Nick opened the car door and stepped onto the smooth concrete in his bare feet.

"You're bound," Mx. Landry droned before taking a long drag and reaching up to remove the cigarette from their mouth.

"It was my choice."

"You're okay?"

"I'm bound."

They took another drag. "Did you kill her?"

"I don't know."

"Could you have?"

"Of course."

"Do you think you did?"

"I can't imagine why I would have."

"Hawwa will want to speak with you."

"I've no objection to speaking with her."

I watched this exchange like a tennis match and tried mightily to read the subtext. I failed.

Nick pushed his hair back from his forehead. "I need to get dressed. We're going to the Benny estate to see if we can provoke my memory or, if not, perhaps we can draw out the killer."

Mx. Landry sucked on their cigarette. I wondered how much their monthly tobacco budget was. It had to be about the same as what I paid in rent.

"The clothes in your office are clean," they said.

Nick gave one of his courtly little head bows. "Thank you." He headed toward the elevator, and Mx. Landry fell into step beside him.

"I'll just wait here," I said.

They both looked back at me and for one tiny little micro second I saw the family resemblance. It was in the half-amused, half-annoyed glimmer in the eyes.

"I'll only be a moment," Nick said.

I gave a stupid little wave because I'm a dork, and then the elevator door closed and I slumped against the side of the Lincoln and rubbed a hand over my face. Then I remembered there were cameras everywhere at The Agency and I straightened and pulled my phone out to kill time watching videos of baby animals.

Less than ten minutes later, Nick emerged dressed in black tactical pants that fit deliciously in all the right places and a white tee-shirt that showed every bump and ripple of muscle. His hair was flawlessly styled. He smelled like expensive aftershave and still wore the weird crystal bracelets. At the moment, they had almost no glow at all.

With a minimum of conversation, we climbed into the car and drove to Benny's estate. Nick directed me to turn off the main drive onto a gravel path that led around the back of the house. There, half a dozen cars more like my Chevy than the Lincoln were parked near the kitchen door.

"Employee parking?" I asked.

"Employees, visitors of employees, detectives, and anyone else Benny doesn't want splashed on the society page. As often as not, there are paparazzi hiding out in the bushes up there." He jerked a thumb toward the main gate.

"Did they get pictures of you?"

He leveled a look at me that told me I should not ask such stupid questions. "No. Of course not."

"Right. Of course. But maybe they got pix of other people coming and going that night?"

A smidge of respect lit his eyes at that, and I got all warm and gooey inside.