"They're nice vacuums," I said. "Almost worth going to jail over."
She laughed. "And that's exactly where they are now."
"You're kind of a badass."
She leveled her considerable stare at me. "I'm a lot of badass, honey," she said. "Maybe we should team up someday and fight crime together."
I grinned. I liked her. A lot. "Our first order of business could be to take down an international vacuum syndicate."
"With stakeouts?"
"Of course."
"You've got yourself a deal." She smiled. "Now, how can I help you, Ms. Moon?"
"I'm here about Gabriel Friday."
"Gabriel. Was he found?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. I'm sorry."
She was about to say something, then closed her mouth again. She nodded once, and I saw that she was, in fact, trying to control herself.
"Were you close to him?" I asked.
"I try to be close to all my workers, Ms. Moon."
"Please, call me Samantha."
She nodded. "Very well, Samantha. Yes, as close as a manager and computer geek could be. We talked as much as time would allow, which might only be a few minutes a week, but I always make the effort."
"You said 'geek'? A term of endearment?"
"A job title. He was part of the Geek Squad, our mobile support techs."
"I see," I said, and now my mind was racing.
She dried her eyes and looked at me directly. "Why do you ask about him, Samantha?"
I shifted in my seat. "I have reason to believe that his disappearance might be related to another case."
I liked Shelley. She deserved the truth, no matter how hard it was for me to tell her. When I was finished, she ran both hands through her thick hair, then just kept them there, holding her head. She seemed instantly lost.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Oh, sweet Jesus. He was such a good kid, such a good kid. He didn't deserve this. I got to know his mother through all of this. They weren't close, and had a falling out, but she loved him so much. Missed him so much. We were all looking for answers. This can't be the answer."
As she buried her face in her hands, I moved over to her side and put my arm around her shoulder as she wept quietly for a few moments. I gently patted her shoulder and thought to myself that everyone should be so lucky to have a boss who cared so much.
When she had gotten control of herself, blowing her nose on a tissue and sitting a little straighter, I moved back around the desk and asked if she still had records of Gabriel's clients.
She nodded. "I kept everything after his disappearance. Wasn't sure what would be important or not."
She had good instincts. I said, "Did the police go through the records?"
She nodded. "Cursory at best. They looked at them, but as far as I know, that's all they did."
"And what's in the files?"
"Just routine stuff. Records of various house calls. Sometimes to businesses, too."
"Businesses?"
"Yes."
"May I see his file?"
"Of course, honey."
She spun her chair around and rolled over to a big filing cabinet in the far corner of the office. There, she dug through the first drawer until she came out with a thickish folder.
"Everything's in here," she said, rolling back, setting it in front of me. "The service orders and final receipts. Not to mention his evaluations and anything else we had on him."
"Thank you," I said.
"If you need any help, Samantha Moon, you let me know. I would personally like to bring this piece of shit down, whoever he is."
"I'll keep you in mind."
She held my gaze a moment longer, and I think the two of us might have bonded. When she was gone, I cracked the file open. It took me precisely two minutes to find a service order for the Fullerton Playhouse.
Called in by Robert Mason himself.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Sherbet answered on the first ring.
"First-ring relationships are serious business," I said.
"Don't get used to it, kid. I just kinda, you know, sensed you were going to call me. Or something like that."
I laughed. "Why, Detective, you sound kind of freaky."
He growled under his breath, which nearly made my phone vibrate against my ear. This was all new to Sherbet. After all, homicide detectives don't sense things. They operate on facts and evidence. At best, they might get an informed hunch.
"So what's the news, Sam? Out with it."
I told him about the file, about my trip to Best Buy, and about the missing tech guy. Although I still wasn't sure what the hell a Nook was, I had discovered that Robert Mason had hired the missing tech.
"Good work, and what's this Nook thing you're talking about?"
"I haven't said anything about a Nook. You're reading my thoughts again, Detective."
More growling. "What's this tech's name again?"
"Gabriel Friday."
"Hang on. I've got his file somewhere...okay, here it is."
I had no doubt that Sherbet's home office looked similar to mine, stacked with files and reports. I soon heard him flipping through pages. He paused in his flipping - reading, no doubt - then said, "Okay, so it says the kid disappeared on his way to work."
"Yes."
"And phone records indicate he received an unknown call just prior to coming in to work."
"Says the same thing in my file," I said.
"Probably because you illegally copied the file," said Sherbet. "So, what are you thinking, Sam?"
"I'm thinking Robert Mason gave Gabriel a call."
"Maybe asked him to swing by the theater early one morning, perhaps to fix a bug in the computer."
"Something like that," I said. "Sort of a follow-up call."
"Gabriel's car - a VW bug - was found burned out in Corona," said Sherbet.
"Near where Brian Meeks's body was found."
Sherbet paused, no doubt reading the same information I was reading. "Within a few miles, actually."
"Yup."
"So Gabriel Friday shows up to give Robert Mason a helping hand...maybe do some pro bono work to help out the local theater...and Mason offs him," said Sherbet.
"And drains him of blood."
"Jesus," said the detective. "I'll call you back in a few minutes."
He called me back, in fact, in fifteen minutes.
"I got it," he said.
"Got what?"