know if something’s too much to tell them?”
“Experience.” That probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was all I had.
“If it was just boys, I might have something for you,” the bartender said, coming back like the conversation’d never been interrupted. “House downtown is the place for that, lost boys end up there. But girls aren’t their thing and the cops are watching too close for anything else to go on right now.”
I looked sideways at Ellen, who was staring down into her beer like answers to a test she hadn’t studied for were written in the foam. Anyone would have thought the faint shake of her head was her reaction to the taste. I wasn’t anyone.
“They’re together, last we heard,” I said. “So yeah, probably not our scene.” I made note of it, though. Prostitution was, my way of thinking, a valid lifestyle choice – hell, I sold my physical skill and a breed of comfort too, if you wanted brass tacks – but only if the people involved were of legal age and consent. A few unofficial pokes into the house’s business would determine if official notice should be taken. I’d been a city cop, not Jersey, and I’d never worked Vice, but I still knew who to call.
“Nothing else floating under the surface?” I paid for our drinks, an additional two twenties folded into the tab.
“The usual graft and corruption, but it’s been under control for a couple-three years by now. Bad business to let anything else in. You know how it is.”
Yeah, I knew. The casinos had taught everyone else how to keep their backyards clean, the better to rake money in through the front door. If you kept under their radar you could survive, but pop up once….
“Thanks.”
“Good luck,” the bartender said, and one of my twenties came back to me, along with a handful of dimes in change. “I got teenagers, myself.”
I nodded, and drank my beer.
“So what now?” Ellen had gotten halfway through hers, and then pushed it away, reaching instead for the bowl of bar-mix. “Got more bartenders to hit up, or are we going to pile back into the car and drive around randomly until we find them?”
My shadow had claws. Tiny milk-claws, but claws. That was good to know.
“We could do a survey of all the bars,” I said. If the missing kids had been human, that’s what I would have done. But what she’d Seen changed that plan. “But no to both of your questions.” I’d stopped here to eliminate possibilities. Now it was time to open them up again.
Unfortunately, I’d have to wait until full dark for that. Some of the fatae could wander the beaches and boardwalks without being noticed – all right, some of us in bathing suits would probably make people do a doubletake or three – but the one in particular I needed to question raised a massive fuss every time, and I was in no mood for fuss. So there was some time to kill.
We stopped outside the bar to pick up dinner – a hot dog for Ellen, two slices of cheese pizza for me – and an extra pastrami sandwich, hold the slaw and mustard. The guy gave me a doubting look, but made the sandwich anyway.
“For later?” Ellen asked, as we walked away, heading not down the boardwalk but toward the nearest ladder down to the beach itself.
“For bribes.”
The sand was almost too soft to walk on, courtesy of all the sunbathers, but we took off our shoes and slogged toward the water, a dark glint in the distance. I could see the city’s lights, and something that was probably Staten Island, plus a couple of larger ships out beyond the markers. And, off to the side, the movement of something sliding through the water, then disappearing again.
I decided not to mention the shark to Ellen. It wasn’t like we were going to go in all that deep. Just enough to be polite.
I took the sandwich out of the waxed paper bag, and peeled off the bread, shoving it back in the bag – no use wasting good rye, after all.
“What are you doing, going fishing?” She
“Experience.” That probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was all I had.
“If it was just boys, I might have something for you,” the bartender said, coming back like the conversation’d never been interrupted. “House downtown is the place for that, lost boys end up there. But girls aren’t their thing and the cops are watching too close for anything else to go on right now.”
I looked sideways at Ellen, who was staring down into her beer like answers to a test she hadn’t studied for were written in the foam. Anyone would have thought the faint shake of her head was her reaction to the taste. I wasn’t anyone.
“They’re together, last we heard,” I said. “So yeah, probably not our scene.” I made note of it, though. Prostitution was, my way of thinking, a valid lifestyle choice – hell, I sold my physical skill and a breed of comfort too, if you wanted brass tacks – but only if the people involved were of legal age and consent. A few unofficial pokes into the house’s business would determine if official notice should be taken. I’d been a city cop, not Jersey, and I’d never worked Vice, but I still knew who to call.
“Nothing else floating under the surface?” I paid for our drinks, an additional two twenties folded into the tab.
“The usual graft and corruption, but it’s been under control for a couple-three years by now. Bad business to let anything else in. You know how it is.”
Yeah, I knew. The casinos had taught everyone else how to keep their backyards clean, the better to rake money in through the front door. If you kept under their radar you could survive, but pop up once….
“Thanks.”
“Good luck,” the bartender said, and one of my twenties came back to me, along with a handful of dimes in change. “I got teenagers, myself.”
I nodded, and drank my beer.
“So what now?” Ellen had gotten halfway through hers, and then pushed it away, reaching instead for the bowl of bar-mix. “Got more bartenders to hit up, or are we going to pile back into the car and drive around randomly until we find them?”
My shadow had claws. Tiny milk-claws, but claws. That was good to know.
“We could do a survey of all the bars,” I said. If the missing kids had been human, that’s what I would have done. But what she’d Seen changed that plan. “But no to both of your questions.” I’d stopped here to eliminate possibilities. Now it was time to open them up again.
Unfortunately, I’d have to wait until full dark for that. Some of the fatae could wander the beaches and boardwalks without being noticed – all right, some of us in bathing suits would probably make people do a doubletake or three – but the one in particular I needed to question raised a massive fuss every time, and I was in no mood for fuss. So there was some time to kill.
We stopped outside the bar to pick up dinner – a hot dog for Ellen, two slices of cheese pizza for me – and an extra pastrami sandwich, hold the slaw and mustard. The guy gave me a doubting look, but made the sandwich anyway.
“For later?” Ellen asked, as we walked away, heading not down the boardwalk but toward the nearest ladder down to the beach itself.
“For bribes.”
The sand was almost too soft to walk on, courtesy of all the sunbathers, but we took off our shoes and slogged toward the water, a dark glint in the distance. I could see the city’s lights, and something that was probably Staten Island, plus a couple of larger ships out beyond the markers. And, off to the side, the movement of something sliding through the water, then disappearing again.
I decided not to mention the shark to Ellen. It wasn’t like we were going to go in all that deep. Just enough to be polite.
I took the sandwich out of the waxed paper bag, and peeled off the bread, shoving it back in the bag – no use wasting good rye, after all.
“What are you doing, going fishing?” She
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