Rock Chick 01 by Kristen Ashley Page B

how much we could pack in.”
    “They have bags at Walgreen’s, you know.”
    “Those plastic bags clog the landfills and
choke the environment.”
    Or something.
    “Jesus, a politically-correct Indy. God save
us.”
    “Smartass,” I said on a smile.
    “What did you wanna talk about?”
    Big breath.
    “How would I go about finding a missing
person?”
    Hank became all business, I couldn’t see him
but I heard it, for sure.
    “Who is it?”
    “You don’t know him.” Well, Hank did know
Rosie but only to buy coffee from when he came to Fortnum’s.
    “How long have they been missing?”
    I tried to calculate it. “About ten
hours.”
    “Sorry, Indy. Not missing yet.”
    “What if they actually are?”
    “Who is it?” he repeated.
    “An employee of mine, he’s a steady guy.”
That was a lie, Rosie was anything but steady. But Rosie never
missed a chance to make coffee. He worked seven days a week and
never complained. “He didn’t show up for work today, his name is
Ambrose Coltrane.”
    Best not use his alias, just in case Lee
called in a favor.
    “The same Ambrose Coltrane that Lee’s lookin’
for?”
    Say what?
    “Lee only knows him as Rosie!”
    Hesitation.
    “Lee has ways.”
    Grr.
    Everybody was always saying this. Lee had
ways of getting into girls’ panties. Lee had ways of getting parts
for his car when he didn’t have a job. Lee had ways of finding
choice parking spots wherever he went. Lee had ways of getting out
of being grounded on average one hour after the grounding (when
Ally and I would usually have to do the whole week or month or
whatever our transgression had bought).
    Hank didn’t read my frustration.
    “Starting with his PI databases. He can tap
into a lot of things. Lee called in a couple hours ago. Asked me to
let him know if Coltrane surfaces. He doin’ this favor for
you?”
    Pause for answer.
    I kept my mouth shut.
    “What’s goin’ on?” Hank was losing his
good-natured, business-like voice and was lapsing into his
stern-older-brother voice. “Why are you and Lee looking for the
same guy?”
    Rule Number One in the India Savage Life
Code: When in doubt or possible trouble, lie.
    “Don’t know. Listen, Hank, can you call me first if you hear anything about Rosie? And then forget
about it for about an hour or two or twenty before calling
Lee?”
    “Not if you don’t tell me what this is
about.”
    Like brother, like brother. Stubborn to the
last.
    “Forget it. See you Saturday at Dad’s
barbeque.”
    “You comin’ with Lee?’
    “No, I’m not coming with Lee. I’m pretty sure
we’ll be broken up by then. Later.”
    I hung up and opened the phone book on my
cell. I scrolled down to Lee, took a big breath and punched the
button that would call Lee, a button I’d never punched before in my
life.
    He answered after one ring. “Yeah?”
    “Lee? It’s Indy.”
    A customer walked up and asked for a double
espresso and I gave him a one minute finger and Jane started
banging the portafilter against the sink to loosen the last pot of
grounds.
    “Where are you?” he asked.
    “Fortnum’s.”
    “I thought I told you to stay at the
condo.”
    As if I ever did what I was told.
    “I have a business and I’m down two
employees. I had to come to work.”
    “Less than twenty-four hours ago, people were
shootin’ at you.”
    Hmm, he sounded pissed off.
    “Jane can’t handle the store in the morning
all alone, she’ll go meltdown.”
    Why was I explaining myself to him?
    “Listen, you have to stop Kitty Sue, she’s
telling everyone we’re together.”
    “We are together.”
    “We’re not together.”
    “Who has she told?”
    “Dad, Marianne Meyer, Hank, God knows who
else. This is getting out of hand. It has to stop.”
    “Mom didn’t tell Hank, I told Hank.”
    “Why would you tell Hank?” This was said in a
near shout and the customer took a step back.
    Lee was silent for a second, thinking
thoughts I could not fathom, then he changed the