It wasn't until around six that I arrived back at the office. I wanted to get the Pro .40 out of my desk drawer tonight instead of tomorrow. If I did it tonight, my entire afternoon tomorrow would be free, since Stein was working. 

Her name is actually Hailee Steinfeld. I fell into the habit of calling her Stein for short, and not long after that June started calling her by it as well.

Oh, she was a bit irked with me for a few weeks, telling me that I made her sound like clothing dye or a lice-killing shampoo. I think it eventually grew on her, because she finally stopped complaining. Stein and I alternated days. She worked one day and I worked the next. It helped us both to keep a healthy balance between fieldwork and office work.

Every P.I. works differently. It's what worked for us. There were days when I got called out of the office while the only person here was June. If that was the case, she told any potential clients to make an appointment. She tried not to schedule any appointments that would interfere with our days off, but as with any job, it happened.

I crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk, reaching for the door. My fingertips had just brushed the handle when the smell hit me. The breeze smelled of forest, of damp leaves and moist soil. It was an earthy scent, not the salty scent of a human. I let my hand fall away from the door. I didn't reach for my gun.

My nostrils flared as I took that scent inside of me. It flooded my senses better than any alcoholic burst of air freshener. Being a werewolf, I'd recognize another werewolf from a mile away. This wolf was much closer than that. I turned my face toward the direction of the smell. She stood about ten feet away wearing a yellow sweater and jeans.

Her skin was tanned, a healthy tan that only the sun could give. The breeze sent her shoulder-length ombre hair billowing, and she raised a small hand to tuck it behind her ear. Her rich amber eyes met mine and there was a moment of acknowledgment.

Her chest rose and fell as she drew a long breath. I watched as her nostrils flared slightly, and her full lips parted. She tasted my scent on the air.

Those lips curved into a seductive smile and she inclined her head, as if to say, "I know what you are," but neither of us needed words. I stood there for a moment and then slowly inclined my own. The door opening startled me and I turned to find June about to run me over. "Well, finally you return," she grumbled, "just as I was about to lock up."

"I need to grab something before you do," I said. I sprinted up the stairs and down the hallway to my office. I unlocked the door and went to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out the Pro .40. I tucked it at the small of my back, pulling my blouse down over it. I made sure that the coat covered the bulk.

June was waiting at the door with an impatient look on her face. "Hurry up," she said. "I've got to get home and get dinner started." I decided to be polite, instead of reminding her who signed her checks. "Sorry, June. I'll see you Wednesday." She waved me off. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you then." I shook my head. People thought I was rude? Obviously, they hadn't met my secretary.

That trace of earth and pine still rode the wind, letting me know that the she wolf was still close by. I resisted the urge to draw my gun and focused on getting to the car. I was almost to the car when a woman's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Are you Lisa Manoban?" I spun on my heel to face her, drawing the Pro .40, clicking off the safety, and hoisting it in a two-handed grip. I looked down the sights, barrel aimed at her forehead. Her eyes widened.

"Why?" I asked as a strange sense of calm filled me. "Because if you are," she took a brave step forward, "then I need to talk to you. Please," she said, eyes meeting mine over the gun, "I swear, I give you my most solemn oath that I mean you no harm."

I tried to sense a threat coming off her, and didn't. I had to admit that I was curious as to how she knew my name. There was no Lisa in Manoban Preternatural Investigations. She had to have figured it out by other means. Call me foolish, but I wanted to know those means.

Here's to hoping that phrase about curiosity only applied to cats, not werewolves. I clicked on the safety and slid the gun into the back of my pants. "What do you need to talk to me about?" Her gaze darted around the empty parking lot. "I'd prefer somewhere more private."

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The Corner Café was a little coffeehouse and bakery a few blocks away from my office. The lighting was dim, as if the atmosphere was supposed to be romantic. It was clean and well kept, despite being the ideal place for high school kids to bring their dates. Then again, I wasn't feeling under the table for gum. The food was reasonably priced, too. There weren't very many customers. Even if there had been, the high backed booths gave the illusion of privacy, which was one of the reasons I liked it.

I found a seat in the far corner so I could watch the doors. It was quiet, with most of the noise coming from the employees doing their various tasks. Keeping my eyes on the front doors, I tore off a piece of croissant and popped it into my mouth. She must've walked. If I had known her I might've offered her a ride. As it was, I didn't, and I'm not that generous toward strangers, especially when they could probably match me in supernatural strength.

I caught sight of a canary yellow sweater and leaned back, waiting. She slipped into the seat across from me. "I apologize if I've made you go out of your way, but it was important that I speak to you where no one would see us." I swallowed. "It's not that far out of the way." I motioned toward my plate. "I haven't eaten anyhow. What do you want?"

"Wow," she said softly. "You're forward, aren't you? Just cut right to the chase?" I shrugged. "In my line of work, you lose patience with the cat and mouse."

"Well then, we should start off the right way. I'm Sana Minatozaki." I wiped my hands on the napkin in my lap, taking the hand she'd offered. "Lisa," I said. "Lisa Manoban." I smiled. "You already knew that. How?"

Sana Minatozaki blinked a few times. "I'd heard you were to the point. I didn't think you'd be this to the point." She shook her head and then said, "I spoke with Hailee Steinfeld the other day over the phone. I told her I'm looking for an investigator. She said she was booked solid."

Sana folded her arms across the table. "I feel like I can trust you more, knowing what you are." I gave a nod, urging her to go on as I finished the croissant. "My brother is missing," she said matter-of-factly. "He's been missing for a few days now. I haven't heard anything from him, and his girlfriend hasn't seen him since last Sunday."

"When was the last time she heard from him?"

"Sunday evening, before he went to work. He works the night shift as a janitor at an elementary school."

"Which school?" I asked. She smiled wide enough to show a row of perfect white teeth, "Jefferson," she said thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure. I'll have to double check with Paula for one hundred percent certainty."

"Paula is his girlfriend?"

"Yes. He never made it back to the house that morning. Paula called me an hour or so after he was supposed to get home, before she went to bed. She asked me to try and get a hold of him because she couldn't reach him at his cell phone or work. I tried calling and kept getting voicemail. The last time I called was yesterday, and it was the same thing."

When she spoke her face showed worry, but not the concern of a woman who thought she'd never see her brother again. "Before I agree to take this case...I need to know why you're being so secretive and having me meet you in private. Are you in trouble?" I asked. The set of her shoulders stiffened and she leaned back. I thought for a moment that she wasn't going to tell me. "You know what I am," she said, "and I know what you are. You don't smell like pack. If you did, I wouldn't be talking to you about this."

"You belong to a pack?"

"Yes. I don't want the others in the pack to know I'm talking to a private investigator. It's too close to going outside of pack law." Her brown eyes hardened, carefully guarding whatever there was to see in them. I understood that werewolf packs resembled traditional wolf packs. There was an alpha, a beta, and an omega. Due to lack of experience and the fact that most packs are very secretive, I didn't know a lot about them. And no, the secretive part didn't make me feel any safer about the idea of joining one.

The whole idea of a pack seemed very power structured to me. I didn't want to have to answer to an alpha werewolf. It's one of the reasons I chose to go it alone. "How does it go outside of pack law?" I asked. "The alpha didn't approve it. She knows nothing about it. Can you keep it that way?" she asked. I wondered for a few moments if it was a good idea.

If the alpha found out, how much crap would I be in? I knew one thing without a doubt—the alpha's word was law, and Sana was breaking it. Either she believed in her capabilities as a werewolf enough that she could protect herself against the alpha, she had someone protecting her, or she was really putting her trust in me. Damn it. I had a feeling it was the latter. I sighed. Without a contract, I was hesitant to take the case.

The contract protects the client and the investigator. In the end, I wasn't the only one taking a huge risk. "It's off the record," I said. A look of relief flooded her features. "Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

"I don't do charity work," I said, "and just because it's off the record doesn't mean there isn't a fee."

She smiled, and it was a smile that probably got her anything she wanted. "Of course," she said. Her voice was a little too breathy.I frowned. 

I really hoped she understood we were talking about money.

-----------------------------

Sana had given me her cell phone number before she left so that I could contact her. She'd also given me the name of her brother and his girlfriend and their telephone numbers. Kenji Minatozaki and Paula Meeks. I assured her that I'd begin my investigation tomorrow. I no longer had the afternoon free.

Damn it.

At least I got a decent retainer out of her. Yeah, that made things a lot better. There were two things I needed to do before I got home. The first thing was to call Stein and find out exactly what had happened. In my line of business you learn not to take anything at face value. "Hello?" It sounded like I'd woken her. "Hey, Stein."

"Oh, hello, Lisa."

"Were you asleep?" I asked. "Yes, but it's okay. What is it that you need?" She was soft spoken and polite, as always. "Sorry for waking you up, Stein, but I need to ask you a few questions about a phone call you received the other day. Does the last name Minatozaki sound familiar to you?"

I wasn't going to give out Sana's first name. I'd agreed to keep the investigation on the down low. "No, it doesn't," she said thoughtfully. "What is this about?"

"I can't give you all the details. A person that knows my first name has contacted me, and she said you gave it to her. Do you remember getting a phone call in the past three days that had to do with me?"

"On Friday June connected a call to my office. It did seem a bit strange, now that I think of it. She wouldn't give me her name, and she said that she specifically wanted to speak to you. I told her I was the only one available in the office, but that she could make an appointment with you. She declined and hung up." Interesting. "How would someone get my legal name?" I asked.

The only thing publicly known was Manoban. Stein often gave her name out to potential clients to be friendly, but I liked mine remaining a mystery unless I was actively working a case. The only way a client would know my name was if we gave it to them. It meant a slighter risk of being harassed or attacked. "Perhaps she was a former client?"

"No, it's not that. Well, thanks, Stein. I'll talk to you later."

"All right, Lis. If you need anything just let me know. Have a good night." We hung up.

Sana must've gotten my name from somewhere else. The police might've given it out, but I doubted that. They respected my privacy. I'd also managed to stay out of newspapers when I was working on the force.

The only thing that ever showed up in print was my last name. Hell, my phone number wasn't even listed. So, that meant that Sana was either connected to someone that I'd worked for, or knew, or that she'd done her own snooping and figured it out. Either way, it made me wary. 

It made me cautious because she lied—and in my book, you absolutely cannot trust a liar.