Free Shrouds of Darkness by Brock Deskins Page A

is that it is the client that thinks it is for them to decide what information is necessary for me to get my job done instead of me. You seem like a woman that is accustomed to being in control. Can you let go of that control and let me decide what I need to know?”
    That beautiful smile creeps back onto her near-perfect face. “And are you ever not in control, Mr. Malone?” It is obviously a rhetorical question and she continues before I can answer. “I will answer any question you have, honestly and fully, to the best of my ability if you feel it is important.”
    I am surprised to find that I actually believe that she means what she just says. I gesture back to the chair she recently vacated and she straightens her skirt before resuming to her seat. She folds her hands delicately in her lap and attentively awaits my questions.
    “Very well, Ms. Goldstein, tell me about your father.”
    “Please call me Katherine. May I call you Leo?”
    “No.”
    I think to put her off with my simple rejection but quickly discover disappointment. My contrariness only seems to amuse her. I find that infuriating yet strangely becoming. This woman is trouble in high heels.
    “My father is an accountant. He is a kind and gentle man who practically dotes on his family. He is deeply in love with my mother so your presumption that he ran off with some poodle, human or otherwise, is beyond reasonable assumption.”
    “Did your father have any enemies? Did he owe anyone any money?”
    “No and no. My father is very responsible and rather innocuous. He is also extremely honest and would never do anything to cause a problem with any of his clients.”
    The way she phrases that response immediately tweaks my interest. “You think that some of his clients have the capacity to do something to someone that displeases them?”
    I got an ‘aha’ moment as I watch conflicting emotions cross that lovely face of hers. This is where my clients start to lie to me and hold things back. I’ve seen it too many times to be fooled. She disappoints me again by being honest.
    “My father’s responsibilities include accounting and bookkeeping for some dangerous people. People that are very capable of making someone disappear, but my father would never cross them. He is a businessman and a very good one.”
    This complicates things. Generally, in a situation like this it can be safely assumed that Martin has somehow run afoul of one of his mob clients and gotten himself whacked and disposed of. However, I can reasonably assume that these people were unaware of their accountant’s ability to shift into a flesh-rending killing machine and would have found themselves on the losing end of a couple hundred pounds of angry, nigh-unstoppable death.
    Like a flash of lightning, a thought strikes me swift and hard. “Where did you say your father disappeared?”
    “He called my mother from his office Friday night at around 10:00 pm and said he was on his way home.”
    “And where is your father’s office located?”
    I pull up a mental map as she tells me the address. It is only a couple blocks from where Angel said they found the torn up remains of three corpses. Maybe a client had tried to rub him out and found out the hard way that it was going to be no easy task.
    “Please, Mr. Malone, help us,” Katharine urges.
    I nod my head thoughtfully. “Very well, Ms. Goldstein, however you should be aware that my rates increase substantially any time I have to deal with werewolves or vampires.”
    Roger gets an even sourer look upon his face, but without even a backward glance, a raised hand from his sister cuts short his argument.
    “That is certainly understandable, Leo, given the inherent risks involved in dealing with our kind,” she says with a smile as she stands and extends a delicate hand towards me.
    I ignore the polite gesture but I am surprised to find that I have to resist the urge to do so. I have no problem admitting to myself that she is a very