Free Forgotten Place by LS Sygnet

patience."
    "See you at seven."  He hung up before
I could chastise him for being a manipulative man.
    "You heard?"
    Devlin nodded.  "Are you sure you're up
to this?"
    "A girl's got to eat."
    "Should I call Shelly and Commander
Orion?"
    "Is OSI
involved?"  Be casual.  Act
surprised that a nothing case would warrant intervention from
Johnny Almighty.
    "Surely you know why he has a vested
interest in this case, Helen.  I have to admit, I'm still not
entirely convinced that it has anything to do with what happened to
Journey's father, but it's hard to completely dismiss it.  Why
didn't you ask her more questions about her father?"
    "She's barely processing what happened
today.  Dredging up her father's murder on the heels of having
her throat cut would've been a mistake."
    "Poor kid," Devlin muttered.  "What a
life."
    Indeed. 

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
    Crevan arrived first with three huge bags
stuffed with everything from ribs and slaw to a bucket of
strawberry soft serve.  I took it as a good sign for the guest
list for the impromptu briefing over dinner.  Ribs equaled
pork.  Shelly was a devout Jew.  Pork meant no
Shelly.  No Shelly equaled no need for OSI.
    I relaxed a little bit and started munching
on sliced pickles from a pint sized styrofoam container while
Crevan started unpacking more food than my house had held since my
first and last dinner party.  He swatted at my hand.
    "Save some of those pickles for the rest of
us."
    "Want me to get a bottle of wine?"
    He squinted ever so slightly.  "When
was the last time you took a pain pill, and should I be worried
about this love affair you're apparently having with Ernest and
Julio?"
    "Ha-ha.  As if I'd have something that
cheap in the wine cellar."
    Crevan grinned.  "As I recall, it's
more of a closet than it is a real cellar.  Answer the
question, detective.  Did you or did you not consume narcotic
pain medication within the past ninety minutes?"
    "Guilty as charged."  I nibbled more
pickle.  "So who's this guy we need the State Department to
find?"
    "Trevor Kent, aged twenty-eight, graduate of
Metro State three years ago."
    "And he's already landed a foreign
post?  Impressive."
    "His father is former U.S. Senator Michael
Kent, retired.  He had good connections, which from what I've
learned about becoming even something as lowly as an attaché to an
ambassador, seems to be a prerequisite."
    I pointed my nose heavenward.  "It does
help to run in the correct circles."
    "Running in circles is right.  I
thought I'd go blind trying to find someone who could help me pin
down enough on this guy to learn who his family is.  You can
see why your connections will be so helpful."
    "I think Devlin found a faster track than
people who may or may not be inclined to do a favor to the
disgraced former special agent," I said.  "He's got Ms.
Journey Ireland wrapped around his little finger it would
seem."
    "You talked to him?"
    "And to her," I said.  "We were leaving
MSUH when you called me.  I really was wiped out when you
offered Jose's Diner as an alternative to dinner at home."
    "Huh," Crevan grunted.  "Dinner alone
in this mausoleum is no guarantee that you'd actually eat
anything."  He slammed the freezer door after depositing his
soft serve and pinned me with a critical stare.  "How bad is
it, Helen?  Really."
    "How bad is what?"
    "Your recovery."
    "I'm getting better, okay?  And about
the weight thing and holing up in here alone all the time, I'm
dealing with that too."
    "Promise?"
    I started to make the ever deceptive X over
my heart when his mouth slanted in an unfavorable direction. 
"I promise.  I'm on Prozac as of today.  Happy now?"
    "I'd be happier if I thought our reality
check this morning had anything to do with it."
    "What reality check?"
    "The one where I suggested you're looking
rather wan.  You couldn't see it, could you?"
    I stuffed half a dozen chunks of dill in my
mouth and muttered, "Wasn't really