Everything She Saw

Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits

The search for new information was a long, ongoing process. Edward had helped by giving me the information on Strange again. The little else I had was from memory, and that wouldn't be good enough. Some of my information would be impossible to get again. Going to Arkham was not an option I wanted to explore again, if they would even allow me inside. Vicki had also tried to help. I doubted the information she gave would help, but she was trying.

Paul had told me information had gone missing, but never had a journalist had their home broken into to steal information. He said that I must have been getting close to something, and people were getting threatened. That made me wonder how anyone could have known what I knew and what I was even getting close to. The cops still had the pictures Katie had taken.

Katie was still an option, if I could find her. Actually, Katie might have been my best option, even if I didn't really want to talk to her. She was a kid. I didn't want to drag a kid into this mess. But somehow, Katie knew things. I needed the things she knew.

I called Zoey, hoping she was still at home. She picked up and in the background a cat hissed. She told it to shut up.

"Zoey here."

"Amber here," I repeated lightly.

"Aren't you at work?"

"I need you to tell me where Katie lives or works," I said firmly. "I know you know where those places are. You're close to her."

"No."

"It's important that you don't actively look for her. She'll contact you if she wants to talk."

"But I need to talk to her! Please, you have to tell me. This could be a breaking point in this stupid case," I begged, dropping the firm tone. I didn't want this case anymore. Was it selfish to want to involve a child, just so the case could be closed? Yes, it was. I knew it was. But I didn't know what else to do.

"I can't betray Katie's trust. I'm sorry, Amber," Zoey said. She hung up the phone.

Fine. I'd find her myself with what I knew about her. Her name was Katie, and she was a photographer. There were four major photography agencies in Gotham.

And none of them had a Katie or a Kate. Two of them had Katherines and three had a Kathleen employed. None of them were the Katie I was looking for.

"Looking for a photographer?" Paul's voice suddenly came from behind me.

"Yeah, a specific one I've heard about. First name Katie. No last name," I lied. Well, half lied. Paul started mumbling under his breath. I caught her name.

"Does she have blue-streaked blonde hair?" he asked.

"You know her?"

"Me? No. About two years ago, she took campaign pictures for Harvey Dent. But she doesn't work for a big company. She works for a small one in the East End," Paul explained.

I frowned, wondering how Katie was able to take pictures for such a high standing member of society at fifteen. Probably the same way she was able to find out all the stuff she did now. I highly doubted it was legal.

Then I grinned. This Katie wasn't about to escape from me again.

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The building was small. So small I almost missed it. It looked rundown, too. I wondered why Harvey Dent would get his pictures done out of such a place. It wasn't like he was short on money at the time.

The inside seemed even smaller. A portly man sat at the counter. He was fiddling with a camera.

"I'm looking for Katie," I said to the man. I stayed away from him.