The dame made an indelible impression. Her self-containment masked a striking face which, upon a closer examination, shone brightly with a radiating grace.
I hope that you can find someone for me she said, her words falling gentle as snow. Depends - someone or, well, just some body? Hurt lit her eyes. That's what I want to know.
My sister's missing. She hasn't been seen for three weeks. She's an independent girl but this is the first time that she has been gone so long. Her composure had unfurled.
I offered her a cigarette. Declining with a shake of her head, she waited for me to respond. She seemed to be refining her view of me as I did mine of her.
With thumb to wheel I sparked a light, and drew hard on a smoke. This case could turn out real or it could turn out to be much ado about nothing. I offered her a deal:
I catch a lead this week - we discuss fees. I turn up zip - you look for another P.I. She nodded her assent. And she's not been in touch with friends, or your mother?
Nobody's heard a thing, her words whispered, And our darling mother is dead. To us. The L.A.P.D. opened a MisPer? She shook her head. Hope wouldn't like the fuss.
I'd known a Hope too, if you catch my drift. Had knowledge of. Before she disappeared, had you two had a falling out, a rift? I didn't like her way of life. I feared
she'd land in trouble. Her judgement was poor. Especially with men. I knew the type - a Mills College girl that acted the whore. I felt a constriction in my windpipe.
We’d met in some dive bar. You suit that dress. You’d suit that suit if you could fill it out. She sure had a smart mouth, nevertheless it was one that looked pretty in a pout.
What happened that night? The tired old trope - me, waking from a drunken stupor. Where once was a girl, now there was none. No Hope. I'm sorry, Miss, I know I won't find her.