Patrol 2: Lost & Found

Chapter 12

"What? What happened?" Vania leapt back to her feet. "Where?"

"His home. No one saw what happened, but Laria is missing, the home is trashed, and he's dead. Grenda says it looks like a bash and dash—bash the father, grab the kid, and dash."

"Where's his home?"

"A block down from the Rusty Anchor. Pink flowers growing on the window sills, ivy covering the walls. You'll see it."

"And his wife?"

"Works the early shift at the pier—she's been at work four hours already."

"And I thought you started early," Vania muttered. As she walked toward the stairs, she asked, "Did anyone tell her yet?"

"Grenda's going there. You'll want to see the house before she gets back."

"Then we'd better get moving," Eddin replied, standing slowly. He joined Vania near the stairs. He looked down at her blanketed shoulders and frowned; "Oh. Right. We'll stop at your place, first."

"No time," Vania replied. "If he has Laria, there's only five days before she turns up dead. Judging by the amount of flies Cavin had accumulated, I'd say he was dead at least a day before he was dumped. So, Laria has four days, at most. We need to find this guy."

"Well, at least take my cloak," Derry offered, nodding at the patched fabric hanging from the hook by the door at the bottom of the stairs. The baker and two enforcers walked down the stairs together. "It might fit."

Eddin saw the frayed edges and patches, eyes roving the simple clasp and cut of the fabric, and frowned; "No. Not for work, anyway." He undid the clasp of his cloak and slid it off his shoulders in one smooth motion. "Mine has the insignia on it. It'll be better." He threw it around her shoulders and did the clasp, then pulled the top edges together closer over her shoulders and buttoned it closed over her breastbone.

"This is ridiculous, Eddin. You really think the insignia means that much? Your cloak can't possibly fit me. At least Derry is closer to my size, so it won't seem so outrageous." She shrugged her shoulders and clasped the edges of the cloak in her long-fingered hands. The three blankets fell from around her shoulders and landed at her feet.

"Come on—we don't have time to argue." Eddin took her arm as he opened the door. "Thank you, Derry."

"You two take care of each other. Eddin—I'm counting on you to keep your comrade-in-arms safe."

"Thank you for your trust, General. I won't let you down."

"Go get that asshole before he kills Laria."

"You take care, too, Derry," Vania added. "Keep Licia and the kids close."

Vania held her free hand close to her stomach, holding the cloak closed over her nightgown, as Eddin walked her to his horse. "How... is this not way too long?"

"Spelled for self-adjust," he replied. He spoke a few quiet words to the bay mare, then grabbed Vania by her upper arms and lifted her onto the mare's back. "Might want to ride sidesaddle today. I don't know how much give your outfit allows your legs and I'd rather not find out."

"So... it shrunk to fit me?" Vania eyed the cloak, letting one hand feel the edge of it. The buttons held the top portion closed until just under her ribcage.

"Yes," he replied as he stepped into the stirrups and pulled himself up on the horse. "Do you know how to get to the Rusty Anchor?"

"Yes. Remember the hairdresser's? Where..." He nodded wordlessly. "One block back from there, moving away from the pier. Also, three or so doors farther down the road."