There was something exhilarating about finding a forgotten ace up my sleeve. The next morning, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, with nothing on me but my wallet, my cane, and my prosthetics, I prepared myself for a magic trick that would make Vivian’s Gotham Hall glamour look like Grandpa pulling a quarter out of my ear. I was about to re-create a life out of nothing. I was no fairy; I was no warlock; I was a god.
I also might have been having a manic episode.
I took a cab to the Target in Culver City, paid the driver to wait for me for twenty minutes, and withdrew some cash from a nearby ATM. Inside the Target I bought a backpack, as much food and water as I could fit into said backpack, and a prepaid phone. Next stop: library Internet to set up my phone service, print out a few Craigslist rental ads, and look up Ellis Barnes, PI.
“Hi there, old friend,” I said brightly when he answered his phone. “I have some information for Inaya that will turn her world on its ear.”
“What did you find out?”
“I said I have information for her, not for you, but I’ve -misplaced her number. Set up a meeting between her and me, and if she isn’t so blown away that she gives you a bonus, I will give you a hundred bucks out of my own pocket.”
“That doesn’t mean a great deal to me,” said Ellis, “but I can tell it means something to you. I will speak to her and call you back.”
I gave him my new number and browsed rental ads while I waited. I didn’t have to be homeless. I just had to leash my Emotion Mind and look at the facts. If you can find a lonely old lady who’s renting out a room of her house, she’ll often skip the background check if you charm her and tell her your tragic story. Month-to-month leases can bite both ways, but they are lifesavers for people with shady pasts.
I jotted down several likely numbers and got halfway to the bus stop before Ellis called me back.
“Inaya wants to know where to meet you.”
“West Hollywood.” I gave him the address of the sushi place. “And tell her to wait for me if she gets there first. I’ll be as fast as I can.”
? ? ?
Most celebrities are not good at going incognito, but Inaya had it down. Her straightened walnut-brown hair was pulled into an unflattering ponytail that stuck out through the back of a baseball cap, and her cheap sunglasses were subtle enough not to scream “starlet in disguise.” Standing there in baggy clothes with her back to the street, she affected a slouching posture that did nothing to advertise her curves. I almost walked by her myself.
“You must be Millie,” she said, staring at my reflection in the window of the sushi place. To face me would have meant facing the throngs of people driving and walking by at midday.
I moved between her and the window so she could talk to me without turning around. She didn’t back up to allow for personal space, so we ended up looking like a couple who’d been together long enough to quit dressing up for dates. Wouldn’t that be something? A quick lunch, then back to her place, falling onto Egyptian cotton sheets, digging my heels into that smooth brown back. Except I didn’t have heels, as if that were the least plausible thing about that fantasy.
“Good to finally meet you,” I said.
“Who are you?” She lowered her sunglasses just enough to hit me with those smoky eyes. It took me a second to activate the language center of my brain.
“When we first spoke,” I said, “I was working for the Arcadia Project. Now that they’ve fired me, I’m free to tell you all the stuff I wasn’t allowed to tell you before. But first I need to make sure you’re not recording or transmitting what I’m -saying. There are very good reasons why the stuff I’m about to show you is secret.”
“If it’s secret, why are you telling me?” She pushed the sunglasses back up on her nose, looking skeptical.
“Because you are literally the last person left who can help me save someone I care about. Someone who’s being held captive by people you trust, and might die.”
“Are you pitching me a script?” she said. “Because I would read this.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for later, but no. This is real, as you’re about to see. But you have to promise me that I can trust you.”
“I prayed after Ellis called me,” she said, “and Jesus gave me the green light. Whatever you have to say, I am ready to hear it.”
I blinked. “Jesus . . . gave you the green light.”
“You have a problem with Jesus?” She lowered the sunglasses again.
“Uh—”
“It’s okay in this town to believe that crystals can heal asthma or vaccines cause autism or an alien overlord is going to give you special brain powers if you pay enough, but I say the J word and suddenly I’m crazy.”
“I’m not the best person to give an opinion on that,” I said. “But funny you should mention religion, because look where we’re headed next.” I pointed to the supposed Christian bookstore, so obviously out of place on a street dominated by drag couture.
Inaya looked at the bookstore. A delicate line appeared between her perfectly tweezed brows before she shifted her gaze across the street. “Oh, hey, is that a shoe store? You suppose they have any of those pumps in ladies’ sizes?”