Junette paced as I attempted to concentrate on the pictures and documents spread across my large oak desk. She stopped to adjust her blue head wrap, the only one I’ve seen her wear. The dull yellow specks splattered across the garment caused the dark blue to stand out. She smiled as she noticed me watching her.

  With hands on hips, she asked, “You gonna stay in here all day?” Her thick Haitian accent made her sound angry. Or perhaps she was angry. Being dead tended to dampen one’s mood.

  The benefits provided by Junette justified tolerating her snarky intrusions. Absorbing her meant having access to a wealth of arcane knowledge, along with important connections in Haiti. The lwa’s stronghold on that island deterred most wizards, making the residents powerful allies.

  I scanned the large, open room. Shelves of books lined the walls from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. The polished wood deck was a few shades lighter than my hand-crafted desk. I kept it close to the wall, despite having enough space in my study to host a ball. “This place is quieter.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Go back to the real world.” Her features softened. “Find a case.” She pointed at the pictures on my desk. “Stop obsessing over this one.”

  I peered at the crime scene photos, avoiding the one that showed Maya motionless. My teeth hurt, making me realize how hard I clenched my jaw.

  Junette stepped back. “I didn’t mean…”

  A bell chimed, saving her from finishing the sentence and me from pretending that staring at these photos for days at a time would lead anywhere. The sound echoed, not from inside this office, but out there.

  “You gonna answer?”

  After taking a deep breath, I nodded. Junette followed me down the hall and to the common room. I imagined an exit on the far wall. The glowing door that appeared shined bright enough to require I shield my eyes. After stepping through, I soared through the fog and back to my body.

  My muscles ached as I stood from the hard wooden chair in my closet-sized office. Unlike my study, this ceiling was only eight feet high. A single shelf adorned the wall to my right. Instead of books, a candle sat on the unfinished wood.

  I stretched and smacked my lips, wanting to brush away the film of sleep. But judging from the footsteps outside my locked door, I wouldn’t have the luxury of freshening up before confronting my visitor.

  “Get moving.” Junette’s voice echoed in my head.

  I pulled a pack of gum from my desk drawer and chewed a piece. “While I’m out there,” I whispered. “Please remember, I have two ears, but can’t listen to you both simultaneously.”

  “You don’t hear me with your ears.”

  Her point rang true. I only heard her actual voice on one occasion. On her deathbed, she had asked me to hide her remains from her enemies. At that point, she barely reached the legal drinking age. Too young to die. I buried her body in an unmarked grave after I absorbed her, restricting her existence to my mind’s boundaries. In return, she provided the protection I needed to walk away from training. Which allowed me to investigate my wife’s death.

  “I’ll shut my yap, if you consider taking the case.” She paused. “Even if magic isn’t involved.”

  “Deal.” I pulled open the other desk drawer and removed my yellow taser. Despite locking my office, not securing the suite while inside my head was a dangerous oversight. I didn’t want to make another by walking into an unknown situation unarmed. The taser barely squeezed into my pocket. An observant person would notice its outline through the thin fabric of my khaki pants.

  Four steps brought me to the door. I turned the deadbolt and unlocked the knob. At first, I cracked the door and peeked out.

  A tall, blond woman wearing a nice blue cocktail dress scanned my small lobby as she turned on the faded green carpet. While bigger than my office, the space barely held the couch and brown leather chair. “She’s up to something,” I whispered. “My gut tells me to turn her away.”

  “You think everyone is suspicious.”

  I pushed the door open. The woman’s golden hair floated as she whipped around to face me. She forced a smile with her bright red lips. Her alluring French accent sounded angelic. “Are you Detective Radler?”

  “In the flesh.”

  Junette’s sassy voice filled my head, “Must be nice.”

  “Be quiet.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Answering Junette openly became a habit after spending months talking to her in my conjured internal space.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The woman fluttered her long lashes as her eyes widened, displaying their deep blue. “Excuse me?”

  “Not you.” I cringed, realizing I was in danger of appearing to be unstable.

  She scanned the room as if confirming we were alone, then raised her eyebrows. “You seem busy.”

  “I’m working a few cases.”

  She stepped towards me.

  The sweet scent of vanilla with a hint of cherry swirled around me, the same as Maya used to wear. My heart sank merely thinking her name. I spun the gold ring on my finger as the woman locked eyes with me. “But I can squeeze in another.”

  Junette sighed. “Cinderella shows up, and your schedule mysteriously clears.”

  My desire to answer Junette almost caused another bluster. Her questioning my motives after insisting I take the case irked me, but I kept the thought to myself.

  “With that set of legs, of course you’ll make time.”

  I said, “Please have a legs.” After shaking my head, I corrected myself. “Please have a seat.” Fumbling through my words, I added, “Your legs… must be… tired from walking in those high heels.” Before she replied, I asked, “Can I get you anything Miss…”

  “Missus Beauvais.” She stepped forward and offered her hand, palm down. “And to answer your question, I’m fine.”

  “Damn right she is.” Junette smacked her lips. “If I had a body, I’d switch teams for an afternoon.”

  My skin tingled as I shook her hand.

  Junette sighed. “She expected you to kiss it, Prince Charming.”

  Turning back to face Mrs. Beauvais, I said, “You can call me Ludwig.”

  “Nina.” She sat on the couch, setting her large pink purse beside her. Metal studs covered the unusual bag, like large silver pimples on a teenager’s face.

  My leather chair squeaked as I slumped into it and sank into the cushions. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees.

  “Don’t gawk at her. Ask questions.”

  “What brings you here?” I asked.

  “My husband.” Nina’s smile faded. “He’s missing.” She fished a small pack of tissues from her purse. “The police won’t investigate. Not gone long enough. But I know my Claude.” She pressed a tissue against her eye. “Lieutenant Artigas said you might help me.”

  “Yasmin Artigas is a good detective. We’ve worked together on a couple of cases.” I nodded.

  Junette scoffed. “Worked together, my ass. She threatened to arrest you for obstruction, then promised to run a background check on your PI license, which you don’t have.”

  Again, her assertion was accurate. Working together was more than a stretch. Besides my wife’s investigation, I’ve only attempted two others. Both brought me into Yasmin’s path. My sleuthing techniques didn’t thrill her. She wanted me far away from her cases. Her referral suggested she didn’t take the man’s disappearance seriously. “When did you see him last?”

  “At brunch,” Nina said.

  “The man’s only missing a few hours?”

  I glanced at my watch. “It’s four now. Did you mean brunch yesterday?”

  Nina shook her head. “We argued last night but apologized during the meal.” Her eyes widened. “He offered to get some bubbly and make up properly.” She blushed while staring at her feet.

  Junette chimed in, “A man skips quality time with Cinderella. Sounds like foul play.”

  Nina glanced at me. “I stopped at a little market near our hotel. When I returned, the chilled champagne sat in our empty room. His cell rang under the bed when I called him.”

  I leaned back. The circumstances of his disappearance raised some questions. Why would Yasmin dump this case on my front door? “What was the fight about?”

  Nina turned her head and stared out the suite’s only window. It offered an amazing view of a brick wall. If she pressed her forehead against the glass and peered down, she could admire the dirty alley below. “We’ve had an ocean between us for two years. Finally reunited, I expected uninterrupted us-time. but he spent two hours talking to a patient.”

  “Is he a doctor?”

  “A psychiatrist.” She shook her head. “He suggested this client might hurt himself or someone else.” The tissues fell from her lap as she shifted in her chair. “The client offered to fly here for a session.” She shivered. “Like I’d want some crazy man visiting.”

  “Did he know where you stayed?”

  She leaned forward. “Claude told his clients the city name, but no other details.” Her mouth gaped open for a moment. She dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “Do you think he’s involved?”

  “Something about her don’t seem right.”

  “I can’t discount any possibilities this early.” I paused. “What’s his name?”

  Nina shook her head. “Claude never revealed their names.” Lowering her voice, she added, “He probably shouldn’t have even consulted a client with me nearby. I overheard the guy’s creepy Russian accent over the phone.”

  “A missing husband, head cases, and now a Russian.” Junette scoffed. “Lots of red flags, Lud.”

  “Give me your number and the hotel address.”

  “Zidol!”

  I didn’t speak a lick of Creole, but Junette used that word when disagreeing with my actions often enough to infer its insulting intent.

  Nina straightened her dress as she stood from the couch. She retrieved her room key and a pink business card from her purse, handing them to me as I pushed myself from the soft chair.

  The wife of a psychiatrist makes money flirting with doctors, an interesting dynamic. After two years of living separate lives on different continents, did one of them cheat? If not the spouse, a jilted lover made a promising suspect.

  “Can’t trust a drug pusher.” Junette didn’t hide the irritation in her voice.

  Ignoring her, I said, “I’m going to check out the hotel.”

  “Should I come with you?” Nina asked.

  I shook my head. “The scene might be dangerous.”

  “Cinderella might turn into a pumpkin while you’re beating the streets. Get a deposit.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here.”

  “After some food.” She rubbed her slim belly. “I’ll try that Korean restaurant around the corner.”

  I grabbed my keys, separated one from the ring, and handed it to her. “This isn’t downtown Miami. Overtown is dangerous during the day and only gets worse at night. Go right there and back. Let yourself in.” I glanced at the toppled pile of unpaid bills on my desk. “Sorry to ask, but I normally get a deposit before starting.”

  She retrieved a checkbook from her purse. “Is five thousand enough?”

  “For investigating a husband missing a few hours. What’s she hiding, Lud?”

  I nodded, watching her fill out the check.

  “Make sure it ain’t made of rubber.”

  I tucked the check she handed me into my back pocket, then offered her my hand.

  Instead of shaking, she hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I really want to change out of these clothes. Can you bring back my luggage?”

  I closed my eyes. The aroma of her perfume and the warmth of her body brought images of Maya.