called. “Mason brought us donuts. Don't the touch the Boston crème, or I'll shoot you.”
They were gone in seconds as cops came out of nowhere. Mason noticed everyone was polite and thanked him. He knew he ruffled feathers when Brian brought him in to help with an investigation not long ago, but everyone treated him fine.
“They don't seem pissed.”
“I might have exaggerated a little. I just wanted donuts. I would stay away from Simmons, though.”
“Simmons is a dick.”
“Yup, that's why you should stay away.”
Brian grabbed a folder from a corner of his desk and offered it to Mason. Mason took a deep breath and accepted it.
“Did you hook that multifunction printer up at your apartment yet? Lisa got that for your birthday. She'll kill you if you haven't.”
Mason nodded as he skimmed through the missing persons fliers Brian always collected for him. Sadly, the folder was thick and heavy.
“I could have faxed these over to you then.”
Mason was quiet. Brian took a bite of his donut.
“You drive in here to put it off,” Brian said.
Brian wasn't saying anything Mason didn't already know.
Mason had a simple method as to which flier he would choose. He usually selected the one that had the most number of zeroes as a reward.
There was no feeling like reuniting loved ones together. He would never forget helping to save Kelly Rierson's life when he was sixteen. Over the past seven years he found countless missing children.
But he had to charge a price. He had to make a living.
He just wished he could get a handle on the guilt that always came with the money side of his job.
A flier caught his attention. Abigail Wheatley, a missing ten-year-old girl. Been gone for the past six months. The last known location was the local mall. In her school photo on the flier she had blond hair, blue eyes, and braces.
The reward was ten thousand dollars.
“And who's our lucky parent today?” Brian asked.
Mason shot him a look. He had that slight pain in his chest he always felt before a case.
“Brian, I'm getting ready to extort ten thousand dollars from a grieving family to find their daughter. Do you call that lucky?”
Brian leaned forward, his eyes serious. “Yes, I call that lucky, because you will find their daughter. Come on, I've told you before. You're not extorting money from anyone. That money usually comes from a lot of different people. Donations, the parents' jobs, other family. You're not robbing anyone.”
Mason heard the same speech over the years. Brian was doing his job as a best friend, trying to help Mason feel better.
It seldom worked.
“Why does that not make me feel tingly?”
“Hey, I put bad guys in jail. And I get paid for it. Firemen get paid, too. You don't have to feel guilty.”
Mason said nothing. He tried to keep calm, keep his nerves under control. Brian was right, but it was hard to feel good about taking someone's money to find their child.
The only good part would come after the job was done.
“You alright?” Brian asked.
Mason nodded and rose to his feet. “Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna head back to my apartment and make the call.”
He winced at his choice of words. Make the call. He felt like a kidnapper asking for ransom.
“Alright, man. You take it easy. I know it's case day and everything, but you're still picking up Dani after school, right?”
Mason laughed to himself. Mason Thomas. Private investigator. Mind slider. Babysitter.
“Yeah. No problem there.”
“You're sure? Just let me know. I can give Lisa a call. She can probably swing out of work early.”
“Don't worry, Kojak. I'll pick her up.”
“Okay. Get out of here and make someone happy.”
*****
Mason grew more nervous as he drove back to his apartment. The call was usually the hardest part. He thought he'd gotten better at it over the years, but still sometimes felt sick after hanging up the phone.
Lucy looked at him as he stepped into his living room. She wanted out of her
They were gone in seconds as cops came out of nowhere. Mason noticed everyone was polite and thanked him. He knew he ruffled feathers when Brian brought him in to help with an investigation not long ago, but everyone treated him fine.
“They don't seem pissed.”
“I might have exaggerated a little. I just wanted donuts. I would stay away from Simmons, though.”
“Simmons is a dick.”
“Yup, that's why you should stay away.”
Brian grabbed a folder from a corner of his desk and offered it to Mason. Mason took a deep breath and accepted it.
“Did you hook that multifunction printer up at your apartment yet? Lisa got that for your birthday. She'll kill you if you haven't.”
Mason nodded as he skimmed through the missing persons fliers Brian always collected for him. Sadly, the folder was thick and heavy.
“I could have faxed these over to you then.”
Mason was quiet. Brian took a bite of his donut.
“You drive in here to put it off,” Brian said.
Brian wasn't saying anything Mason didn't already know.
Mason had a simple method as to which flier he would choose. He usually selected the one that had the most number of zeroes as a reward.
There was no feeling like reuniting loved ones together. He would never forget helping to save Kelly Rierson's life when he was sixteen. Over the past seven years he found countless missing children.
But he had to charge a price. He had to make a living.
He just wished he could get a handle on the guilt that always came with the money side of his job.
A flier caught his attention. Abigail Wheatley, a missing ten-year-old girl. Been gone for the past six months. The last known location was the local mall. In her school photo on the flier she had blond hair, blue eyes, and braces.
The reward was ten thousand dollars.
“And who's our lucky parent today?” Brian asked.
Mason shot him a look. He had that slight pain in his chest he always felt before a case.
“Brian, I'm getting ready to extort ten thousand dollars from a grieving family to find their daughter. Do you call that lucky?”
Brian leaned forward, his eyes serious. “Yes, I call that lucky, because you will find their daughter. Come on, I've told you before. You're not extorting money from anyone. That money usually comes from a lot of different people. Donations, the parents' jobs, other family. You're not robbing anyone.”
Mason heard the same speech over the years. Brian was doing his job as a best friend, trying to help Mason feel better.
It seldom worked.
“Why does that not make me feel tingly?”
“Hey, I put bad guys in jail. And I get paid for it. Firemen get paid, too. You don't have to feel guilty.”
Mason said nothing. He tried to keep calm, keep his nerves under control. Brian was right, but it was hard to feel good about taking someone's money to find their child.
The only good part would come after the job was done.
“You alright?” Brian asked.
Mason nodded and rose to his feet. “Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna head back to my apartment and make the call.”
He winced at his choice of words. Make the call. He felt like a kidnapper asking for ransom.
“Alright, man. You take it easy. I know it's case day and everything, but you're still picking up Dani after school, right?”
Mason laughed to himself. Mason Thomas. Private investigator. Mind slider. Babysitter.
“Yeah. No problem there.”
“You're sure? Just let me know. I can give Lisa a call. She can probably swing out of work early.”
“Don't worry, Kojak. I'll pick her up.”
“Okay. Get out of here and make someone happy.”
*****
Mason grew more nervous as he drove back to his apartment. The call was usually the hardest part. He thought he'd gotten better at it over the years, but still sometimes felt sick after hanging up the phone.
Lucy looked at him as he stepped into his living room. She wanted out of her
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