“Why hasn’t she answered?” he wondered, entering his apartment.
He sat down to read the news when the phone rang.
“Just checking. You okay, Vince?” a woman’s voiced augmented. “Did you see that clairvoyant on Hermitage Road?”
“Yep, I met Adriana shortly before the fire broke out in her building.”
“What did she say about you? Want to come over for coffee?”
“Sorry, no time.”
“Too busy, or you don’t want to see me?” Sylvie grumbled.
“You choose. Either works.”
Vincent cringed. Rarely did conversations with his sister go well. Why was she, a nonbeliever of the occult, pretending to be interested? He grabbed a cold beer before turning on the TV.
Details of the latest housing inferno beamed across the screen. Fire started on the second floor by an unattended cigarette. Several units were ruined beyond repair. Third floor spared. Only two known victims. Adriana was noted as “missing”, a “person of interest”.
Vincent glanced at his phone, not noticing replies to his messages. He took an issue from the pile of backlogged crime journals at his side. Before he started reading, the phone rang.
“Where were you?” he snapped. “I’ve been worried.”
“Sorry. Caught up in gathering more tidbits on our case,” the voice on the other end clarified.
“What have you?”
“Illegal entry. No visa. Went by at least two aliases.”
Vincent paused. “Any info about her finance transactions this past week?”
“Nothing. No bank holdings or investments.”
“Think she’s working with someone?”
“No doubt in my mind. Or, for someone.”
“Can we trace her whereabouts after the fire? Train or plane tickets? Car rental?”
“Thanks for getting back,” Vincent ended the call.
He and Mary-Ellen worked together as a detective-team. In pursuit of a fraudster/fortune teller, by the name of Adriana. Aka Sirena and Esmerelda.