Important decisions shouldn't be made at night. The menacing gloom made thoughts monstrous and more sinister. This case rose up, full of teeth and fire, spiraling flames from its nose, threatening to devour me. As I thrashed about in tortured slumber, I dreamt of a hand closing forcefully against my neck, squeezing the air from my lungs—the nails digging deeply into my flesh.

Wednesday morning's sun invaded my bedroom like a seasoned thief, silently and effortlessly, spraying me right in the face, forcing my eyes to flap open. Under the ray's illumination, the case retreated to a tiny, harmless thing, and nowhere near as frightening.

Relaxed, I fell back into a light doze. The sun's rays warmed my face. I slept until my alarm blared.

I jumped and regretted the sudden movements. I buried my head under the pillows and again swore at whoever invented alarm clocks. I’d forgotten to turn off the blasted bleating beast, but now that it had gone off, I was fully awake.

The buzzing of the telemonitor infiltrated my pillows' defenses and groaning I clambered out of bed, dragged myself into the living room to answer the call.

"Hello," I said, seeing Jane's face on the caller identifier.

Her face failed to hide her surprise, and her eyes roamed over my scanty clad pj’s, before meeting my eyes. "Aunt Belle will be here in twenty minutes. You’re goin’ to be freakin’ late again!"

My recently cut braids were tied back in a ponytail. They used to be waist length, but I found it distracting, heavy, and time consuming. It was like walking around with a small child hanging on your neck. Now they reached just past my shoulders. My black pj’s fit like a glove, exposing a lot of leg, arm and belly. Barefoot, sleepy, and annoyed, I sat down Indian fashion on the sofa. "So…"

"So you said you wanted to meet with her today at one," Jane said back. Already awake and dressed in a black sweater with muddy brown corduroys, her sullen expression matched perfectly. Her dreadlocks, free and unrestrained, spilled over her slender, athletic shoulders. "It's already noon!"

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I didn't do mornings. That didn't stop Jane from trying to rotate my internal clock to an earlier hour. I’d forgotten about the meeting with Christensen, which I made for the afternoon. 12:01 was technically no longer morning.

"I'll be there," I sighed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Give me a few minutes. I did say one o’clock. If she shows up at 12:20, I’m not late. She’s early."

I opened my eyes soon enough to see Jane’s eyebrows rise in question.

"A few minutes?" she scoffed. “You’re practically naked.”

I laughed. "Okay, about twenty minutes. I’ll be there before one. How about that?"

Half an hour later, I walked into the office. Mayor Christensen stood in front of Marsha's desk, her arms folded over her blinding winter white suit. Her deep, blood red nail polish glistened under the room's lights. Her media perfect smile greeted me and I tried to force the grimace from my own face.

I gave her my best, professional smile, devoid of meaning as a wauto’s headlight, but sparkling.

"Miss Lewis, we meet again," she said coolly, her breath smelling strongly of mint. "Thank you for accepting my daughter's case. I trust Captain Hanson forwarded you the necessary files?"

"Yes, he did. They arrived safely." Detesting her again as if yesterday wasn't enough, I fought to keep myself in line. "He was quite prompt in getting them to me. Thank you."

I walked around to Marsha's desk and pulled out a contract. Contracts helped with clients because they outlined what I would and would not do and what to expect. The handheld weighed less than three pounds and provided a video explanation of what to expect. Contrary to some legends, I am not a miracle worker. There are limits on my abilities and time.

She took the handheld and watched the video clip. When it ended, she typed her name briskly and signed the contract, her nails clicking on the metal device. Her signature was comprised of several illegible loops and spirals.

"You do understand that I may not be able to find her, especially if she doesn't want to be found?"

The last point I said firmly and clearly courtesy of Malcolm Moore. The idea that Amanda may have simple run away from home should be a possibility and one that Christensen should entertain. I was.

But I wasn’t the girl’s mother, either.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she balked, her eyebrow arched in surprise. "Mandy never would have left on her own! She loved Memphis!"

It struck me as odd that her mother said Amanda loved Memphis, not "me". I wanted her reaction and I got it although I couldn't tell is she was acting or truly disgusted by the implication that Amanda didn't like being at home. Mayor Christensen was used to playing a role.

And I was good at spotting cracks in those performances.

"All I'm saying is that when I call it quits, it's quits," I said, making sure to look her in the face so she knew I was serious. "No questions, no threats. It's done when I say so."

"I watched the video, Miss Lewis," she said, her hazel eyes narrowed. "I am not a simpleton."

 With that said, she opened her purse and tossed the hard plastic currency card onto my desk.

I opened flipped the card over .4,000 non-district currency. The silver pressed across the back was the Southeast Governor's seal. His broad nose and fuzzy eyebrows had been streamlined and artfully corrected so that he looked less like a brute and more like a politician. I’d be able to convert it to district money, though I might get burned on the exchange rate.

"You'll be in Memphis tonight."

It wasn't a question.

It sounded more like a command.

You know me and authority.

"Remember, mayor," I said icily, my voice unkind, my gaze penetrating hers. "I am the inspector. I'll be in Memphis, but it won't be tonight."

She actually had the grace to blush. Her light, cream-with-coffee, complexion became rosy and she straightened her jacket. "Yes, of course. So… contact me and let me know when you arrive so that I can coordinate your efforts with Captain Hanson."

With a wave goodbye, she disappeared through the lobby's doors.

Jane's throaty voice met hers in the hall and echoed into the tight space. It was full of southern twang. Amazing how Jane could make that accent reappear and disappear like some sideshow magic trick. It usually cropped up when her family was around, which wasn’t too often.

The door shut on their conversation, no doubt discussing why I wasn't going to Memphis tonight.

The throbbing, at the base of my neck, inched upward toward my head. I walked around to the area behind the alcove where Mr. Schmuckler hid, to the medicine box and took out the pain patches. The nanos in the patches had one duty—deliver the pain relievers to the central nervous system and the nerves closest to the area of injury

 I smiled down at the strips. Hurry, hurry little nanos.The doors opened and I heard Jane come into the office. She reeked of beef and beer. Another lunch at the bar across the street. The thin kick of cigarette smoke also draped her person. Smoking wasn’t allowed for those under the age of something like forty. Jane wasn’t even close to that number, but it didn’t stop her from participating in sucking down tobacco.

"It’s about time you dragged your carcass in here," she said roughly, with a hint of humor. “I didn’t want to be here when you came in so you couldn’t accuse me of plotting with her.”

I laughed because I deserved that jab. "Yeah, well, she didn't wait long. Plus she was early, and I wasn’t late."

“Says you.” Jane barked out a laugh.

She put down a plastic container. Grease stains smeared the inside of it. She came over towards me and leaned against the post. "You busy?"

I shook my head no. "I planned to go back over Amanda's files. What’s up?"

"I was wondering why we couldn't leave for Memphis now," she said with a shrug as if she didn't really care when we left.

"I want to go when no one knows we're coming," I said, my patience waned. "Off balanced is how everyone should be, including your aunt, until we get a handle on who’s involved and who isn’t."

"Enough time has already passed!” Jane snapped. I could almost see her frustration spewing out her ears. "The trails..."

"…are cold," I said, finishing her sentence. Didn't I mention that to both her and Mayor Christensen before I took this case? "I know. Remember what I said about regulator ruined cases."

I took a deep breath and let it out leisurely. Jane has never questioned my decisions before with this vigor and frequency.

See why I detest personal cases?

"You need to remember this is a caselike any other," I said through clinched teeth and shoving my irritation into a far away emotional place. "Or else you won't make it through this. Not only that, but you might get us both killed. We have no room for error and that’s because we’re playing catch up."

No one directed me. I followed my own drummer girl.

That wasn’t going to change because of Jane.

She stared at me a moment. As if noticing my struggle not to smack her, she rolled her eyes. "Keep your panties on, I know."

"Good. We'll leave tomorrow around two," I said, pushing past her and going to my private office to dig once again into Amanda Christensen's life. “Be ready.”

Memphis, here I come.