“Hello, Sophie,” she said sweetly, “how may I help you?”
Lorraine was a Gestalt witch—of the green order. She was as sweet as pie with honey-colored hair that hung down her back and eyes that flashed from midnight blue to a green that was as clear and as deep as a jeweled pond. She didn’t swear, eat cheese or drink, but she was known worldwide for causing two tsunamis and an earthquake that decimated her ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and an ancient civilization. But as long as you stayed on her good side, she was a complete gem.
“Hi, Lorraine!” I said brightly. “You look great! And Costineau!” I reached out to stroke the sleeping kitty. He opened one milky yellow eye and hissed at me, his little cat back arching, black fur spiking.
“Hey, I was just wondering …” I felt myself twirling my hair around my finger and I stopped, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Mr. Sampson has been out the last couple of days. Do you think, possibly, you could do a sweep for him? Just a quick one, just to check?”
Lorraine could send a sweep around the world in record time and tell you exactly where anyone was, right down to the position he was in while lying in bed. Very handy for finding werewolf bosses and checking in on the occasional cheating spouse.
“Sorry.” She wagged her head, one long-nailed index finger tapping the sign above her head: ABSOLUTELY NO WITCHCRAFT FOR NON-BUSINESS PURPOSES ON THE PREMISES.
I looked over my shoulder at Parker, who looked dumbfounded, and I blew out a small sigh.
“But it’s an emergency,” I said to Lorraine, trying my best to make my green eyes look innocent and imploring. I dropped my voice. “We’re worried that Mr. Sampson could be in danger.”
Lorraine’s shining eyes shifted left and right, and she leaned closer toward us so that Costineau squealed and jumped off her lap, settling at her feet under the desk.
“Well, if it’s an emergency …” She sucked in a breath, letting us hang. “Okay, fine. But just a quick one,” she said finally, holding up a single finger.
I nodded quickly, and Lorraine eyed me, then settled back in her chair, breathing deeply and closing her eyes.
I stepped back, letting her work, and I glanced at Parker, satisfied. His blue eyes were wide, terrified, and I looked back at Lorraine, who had paled considerably. Tiny beads of sweat stood out at her hairline and above her lip. Her thin shoulders shook underneath her black shawl.
“Is that normal?” Hayes mouthed. I shrugged.
“No,” Lorraine said finally, letting out a gasp. “I can’t find him.” She blinked repeatedly. “I can’t find anything at all on Mr. Sampson.” She cocked her head. “It’s weird.”
“Are you sure?” Parker said, stepping in front of me.
Lorraine raised one dark eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m sorry. And you are?”
“Sorry,” I said, pulling Parker by the arm. “This is Detective Parker Hayes. He’s concerned about Mr. Sampson, too.”
Lorraine nodded, her eyes fixed on Parker.
“Thank you, Lorraine, for trying. Sorry we bothered you.” I began to pull Parker along with me.
“Sophie, wait.” Lorraine was on her feet behind her desk. She pulled a dark pink envelope out of her top drawer and pressed it across the desk to me. “This is for you.”
I eyed the envelope. Clues? A love note from Sampson? I headed back, holding Lorraine’s eye as I took the note. “Thank you,” I said, slipping it into my pocket.
I followed Parker out the door. We paused in the hallway.
“So?” Parker asked.
“So, right now I’m really concerned,” I said. “Lorraine can find anyone. Anyone who wants to be found—or anyone who’s not being hidden.”
“Hidden? Someone can hide someone … magically?” Parker fell into step with me.
“Yeah. Magic shields hide a lot.” I nodded hello to a gargoyle stepping out of the ladies’ room trailing a half yard of toilet paper from her hoof.
“Like that?”
“Yep, like that. They’re everywhere. We—norms—just don’t think they are, so we don’t see them, even if the veils are thin.”
“Oh,” said Parker, “I’m pretty sure if I saw that walking down South of Market, I’d remember it.”
“This is San Francisco. A fire-breathing dragon shimmying down the street beating a tambourine wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow.”
Parker frowned. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, no. This isn’t right.”
“Parker …”
Parker looked me up and down. “What about you?”
“What about me?” I asked, frowning.
Parker lowered his voice. “Can’t you do your hoodoo-voodoo thing, too?”
“Hoodoo voodoo?”
“You know, seeing. Isn’t that your thing?”