Chapter 2

McDonalds

Forcing myself to wake up to the banging of my door five in the morning, isn`t one of my favorite things to do. In fact, I'd rather go another round of tango with a toad demon than having such an awesome dream interrupted to the insistent knocking so early in the morning. I grumbled as I got up and sat on the edge of my bed, my head still blurry from sleep. The alarm clock showed five, flat. Not five to five, or five minutes to five, just five. I groaned in despair and walked through my bedroom, and through the cluttered mess of the living room and to the steel framed door. It was madness to be awake so early in the morning. Simply madness!

The door banged again, knocking insistently. I didn't bother picking up my blasting rod, or the sword cane and my wizard staff that was lying next to the door. I doubt any demon would be polite enough to knock on the door to kill me. I wouldn't be here otherwise.

I didn`t notice the empty couch, or the occupant that should have been there. I didn't notice the red eyes peering onto my back from the darkest corner of the living room, completely invisible to anyone without night vision goggles. Or night vision, period.

"Alright, alright I'm coming," I grumbled, unlocking the door and glared.

Micheal Carpenter beamed at me, his white teeth pearly blinding my eyes as if the almighty himself was cursing me.

I sighed, letting him through the door. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Michael was as good as they come, and I can never stay mad at him for long. He's the honest and a righteous kind any conman would drool over, though they better watch out for his wife. He also just happens to be the fist of God, carrying a legendary holy sword and smiting evil as they come. The duffel bag hung around his shoulder, the pommel of the blade Amoracchius stuck out on the end through the zipper was to be any indication. Vampires and any other nasty evil don't tend to last very long against him.

"I've got some work for you." I closed the door behind him. Michael turned to face me, "It's important."

"Couldn't this have waited in the morning?" I grumbled, crossing my arms. "And can't you do anything?"

"I would but, another calls to me in time of my need. It's important, and she'll even pay you."

I can tell Michael disapproved. Fighting evil shouldn't be paid, but my stomach ain't gonna feed itself, and extra work would be nice. Hey, it's nice to indulge on nice things once in a while. Rolling my eyes, I gestured him to sit down on the couch.

Michael and I have only just recently been working together since the sudden bout of ghost attacks a month ago. The pay's been great, and working with an extra hand was even better.

"So who's the client?"

"Her name is Monica Gainsworth." Michael took out an envelope and handed it to me. "Her brother's been taken, and she might be next."

Inside the envelope held a note to her address, and her brother's with a stack of hundred dollar bills inside. I nearly dropped it in shock, my eyebrows shot up. "Oh hell!"

"Harry, you're drooling." Michael deadpanned. "And stop swearing. You know I do not like that."

"I'm not drooling!" I wasn't drooling. "She wants me to find her brother? Can't she go to the police?"

"She tried, and they're having even less success. That's why she called me for help." Michael replied, staring right into my eyes. I stared back. He's another I soul gazed with, so there wasn't any need for avoiding eye contact. "She's a very dear friend of mine, Harry. And Charity's as well."

"So you recommended her, me?"

"You're specialty is finding people. And there's more," Michael paused for a moment, "She says she might have been followed for the last couple of days, and not by anything normal. Her suspicions were confirmed when her brother said the same thing…"

"Let me guess, he was kidnapped the next day?"

"Unfortunately, Harry." Michael nodded. "She's at a safe house at the moment." He handed me another note. "The address is here. She'll be expecting you…"

Michael's eyes narrowed and aimed it behind me. I frowned, following his sharp gaze to find Itachi sitting on the arm chair. Holy cow batman! I didn't even notice him sitting there the entire time Michael and I talked.

As for Itachi, he looked completely relaxed, his eyes closed and feet propped straight against the floor with his back slouched a little against the chair. Every few seconds he would take a sip from the cup, as if he was savoring the taste. He looked completely normal. I tried not to twitch, I really, really tried.

"Oh yeah, he's a…uh, friend," I replied hurriedly, turning back to my other friend. "He's assisting me in a case at the moment, sort of..."

"Hello," Michael smiled, nodding to him. He looked disturbed for some reason, his eyes now focused solely on Itachi.

Itachi nodded, his darker than black eyes staring right back at Michael.

"Right well, I better get back," Michael got up, but before turning to leave through the door he paused. "This isn't a normal case, Harry. Good luck."

I nodded, and shut the door behind him.

Itachi continue to drink from his tea, unmoving.

"What the hell am I going to do with you?" I mumbled, scratching my head in frustration.

It was several hours later I found myself and Itachi splurging in Mcdonalds, staying well away from the cashiers. The last thing I needed was the machines blowing up on me, so I sat down and showed how the currency works to Itachi. He picked it up instantly, and went to order the exactly what I asked him to buy. He was quick on the uptake, I`d give him that.

It was Tuesday morning, the half burnt book, extremely priceless lay next to me on the table. It was half past eight and already morning business was booming. Young and old, office workers and school kids, college students and even a few elderly waited in line for morning breakfast and coffee.

I tried not to snigger. Despite the completely devoid presence on his features he plastered on his face, the raven haired still looked awkward waiting in line, and the attention he was getting from the giggling teenage girls made him look even more pronounced in the heavy crowd. The worn out shirt, the years old pair of shoes and the jogger's pants I let him borrow were couple of extra sizes too large. But somehow he made it seem more stylish.

Itachi made it back through the throngs of the small crowd with a tray filled with food. There was a little bit of a pair of everything, from fries to burgers and a medium coffee for the both of us. I took out my burger, unwrapped It carefully and bit right into it. I nearly groaned in delight as I savored the taste of meaty goodness. Meat, double bacon with extra cheese and sauce all neatly held together under the buns.

I could tell Itachi liked it too when he bit into his own burger. He managed to finish it within the next two minutes later and tried out the fries. There still wasn't any reaction, not even a flicker of emotion. You`d think you`d get some kind of a reaction. Yep, he`s a robot. Maybe I should introduce him to Pizza.

I took another bite into my burger while my thoughts drifted back to Susan. She's going to come by and take Itachi off my hands after a little bit of an introduction. And as a favor for me, I asked her to do some shopping with Itachi later today while I took care of some business. It was a sudden request to spring up on her so easily in the morning, I admit. But she agreed anyway and to return the favor I should pay for dinner tonight. A dinner at a fancy restaurant with Susan would be the my highlight of the week.

And speaking of Susan…

"Hey, Harry!" I grinned up at her. Susan leaned down to give me a quick peck to the cheeks. "You look cleaned up."

I decided to let that comment fly. "You sure you okay with this?"

"Don't be silly. I'd love to help." Susan turned to face Itachi, her hand held out for a handshake. "And this must be Itachi."

Susan Rodriguez, now there was a beauty if I ever saw one. She wore a crisp grey business suit and pants that hugged tightly around her body like a second skin. It showed her curves just at the right places, and her dark skin only made her look that much more eye dropping gorgeous. I tried really hard not to stare too long at her ass when she turned to meet Itachi.

Susan was a writer of the paranormal magazine, reporting in all the strange happenings within and around the city. If something happened, Susan would come to me to find the answers. She had this determined streak, an obsession of sorts to make the city of Chicago see the hidden underworld just there barely beneath the surface. And it's that determination of hers that led her to the front door of my office. I am after all the only legit professional wizard in the city.

I turned back to find Itachi standing up and gently took her hands in a firm handshake. "You must be Susan." He said, just a hint of a smile and nodded. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Why Harry, I didn't realize your friend was so nice!" She stated, her smile becoming that much wider. "Or that he was such a stud!"

Did she just gush? She didn't gush. There's no way in hell she gushed. Stars and Stones! Who uses the word gush anymore, anyway? I angrily bit into my burger again, hiding my scowl. Now I'm feeling just a little bit hesitant to leave the pretty boy with Susan all day. I'd feel much better if he was stuck in my subbasement and introduce him to Bob instead. An entire day with a horny talking skull could drive anyone insane.

"And you, Ms. Rodriguez"

I can feel my right eye twitching. He was only being nice, I reminded myself.

"Well, as for our dinner date," Susan turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "I'll pick you up later tonight for dinner at ten?"

"Yea, I'll be at my place by nine by the time I'm home." I nodded, before turning to Itachi. "Don't give her any trouble, Itachi."

She crinkled her nose at my outfit; at least the one Itachi was wearing. "And hopefully we'll get you out of those awful clothes."

"Hey!" I exclaimed rather loudly. "I'm not that bad!"

"So, Harry. I hear there's been a weird murder last night," Susan suddenly asked. "Care to comment?"

"Nothing for you to know much about," I said, my smile slowly widening. "But maybe tonight with the right negotiation tactics, I might let something slip out or two."

"We'll see about that," Susan replied, smiling before turning back to Itachi. "Well, come on Itachi. The car's just out front."

Susan turned and walked away, Itachi following on her strides.

"Protect her. Make sure nothing happens to her, you got me?" I all but demanded when Itachi passed me. My voice was low enough that Susan couldn't hear me.

Itachi slowed mid stride, looking at my eyes for a moment before nodding. "She'll be safe." And he left.

I didn't bother to make sure he was sincere. He meant it. It doesn`t mean I trust him fully, I`d be a fool.

It was a couple of hours later I find myself sipping the last drips of my now cold coffee before throwing it into the trash. The director of the museum was less than pleased about the book, and I was the unfortunate one close by to pat him on the back while he cried his heart out.

I also asked for the payment afterwards, and I felt like a jerk pocketing the tear stained cheque. Yep. That's me, a total jerk. It took another hour driving deeper into the city, and the traffic wasn't worse than usual on a Tuesday morning.

The address finally led me to one of those really nice and ritzy hotel buildings. The kind you have to pay hundreds of dollars just for a night. The kind the reception paid extra close attention to my shaggy appearance when I entered.

I didn't even bother looking her, and continued through the hall and to the right, up the stairs a few flight up stairs and rapped on the door for my next client.

The door opened slightly ajar after the second knock, just enough for me to see her nose and eyes. I instinctively avoided eye contact and looked at the tip of her nose. I can tell she was scared. It doesn`t take a genius to figure out she`s fearful of something, and being extremely cautious about it.

"Monica Gainsworth?" I asked, looking down at the note again. "Michael Carpenter sent me."

"Harry Dresden," She had a smooth voice, and I can tell she's hiding her fear behind it. "The wizard, right?"

"That's me." I nodded. "You mind if I come in?"

Monica stared at me for a few seconds, as if to try and figure me out behind her grey eyes. She finally opened the door all the way, letting me through. Monica was probably about twenty years old, maybe older. She wore tight fitted jeans that made her legs look longer than it was possible, and a white sweater she hugged around to herself to bring in some warmth to her pale skin. She reminds me of one of Billy and his gang of werewolves, a kind of bookish type but with enough attraction to make any hormonal boys head spin.

"Michael told me you can help. And I trust Michael's word, so I trust you," She led her way through and I had to appreciate the décor as I half listened. She turned to face me, hey eyes piercing and sharp. "I have to. Can you help me?"

"Usually I'd tell you to go to the police for missing's persons. But…" Harry hesitated for a moment. "Listen, I'll help as much as I can. If this turns out to be my area of expertise, I'd do my best. If not, I'll return your money." It was almost painful to say that, but I managed to hide it behind a smile.

Monica visibly relaxed, as if the entire world was lifted from her shoulders. Her shoulder sagged and her pretense of anything polite to company of strangers left like the wind. I noticed a silver cross hung around her neck, hidden beneath her sweater. It was a tiny little thing, and glittered nicely against the light of the room. The room itself is spacy, beautiful and grand. It was at least as big as my entire living room and kitchen and my bathroom put together. Safe house my butt. If this is her safe house, I'd love to see what her home looked like.

"So what can you tell me before the kidnapping? Any details you might remember that tipped you off." I took out a notepad and a pencil.

"It was the same as any other day, just the usual." Monica thought it over, mulling her words carefully. "I don't notice many things, Mr. Dresden. But I did notice the same car throughout the week, always a street away whenever I get my morning coffee or whenever I get off from work. I don`t pretend to notice but it`s always there."

"So what makes you think they kidnapped your brother?"

"John called me a day before he disappeared. He mentioned a car he thought was following him. I didn't say anything, just told him he was being silly," Monica's eyes glistened, her lips trembling slightly.

Uh oh.

"And he was kidnapped the next day."

"Yes."

"Can you remember what kind of car it was?"

"I did better than that, Mr. Dresden," She took a stack of photos from the desk drawer and handed them to me. "These are the photos I hired someone to take."

I was impressed. Monica was resourceful and knew how to look out for herself. Murphy would have loved her.

The photos were of an old Chevy, probably made in the 80s. It was barely worse than my buggy. Shuffling through the next photo, the license plates can be shown on the back of the car. It was clear and easy to read the numbers and letters. I can tell the photographer zoomed in on the licence plates specifically. The rest of the photos tried to capture the occupants inside, but it was too dark to see much.

"Did you give this to the police?"

"Yeah, and they said they'd look into it. They still think my brother wasn't kidnapped."

I frowned, shuffling through the photos before taking the picture with the license plate. "You mind if I take this?"

"Go ahead," Monica replied.

"Listen, Monica. I have the address and the key to your brother's place Michael gave me. Would you mind if I go in there and check it out? I also need something very personal from him. Something he holds really close to him. Something like a memento, or even just a piece of his hair or anything that has a connection to him."

Monica turned her head, wiping the little tears from her eyes and thought it over. She turned back to look at me, and I made sure to avoid her eyes. "There is. There's his engagement ring in his living room. He never sold it after his fiancé left him. He still loved her…."

See, I have this outdated chauvinistic attitude towards women. Not in the men are better than women kind of way, but in the 'I can't resist women's pleading teary eyed look that's bound to get me in trouble' kind or open doors for them. But most of the time it ends with former, it's gotten me into trouble before and I doubt it's going to stop now. Oh hell…

"I promise I'll look into it," I said, pocketing the photo in my right pocket jacket. "The second I find anything you'd be the first to know. And if there's anything else…"

Monica didn't say much afterwards and she numbly closed the door behind me once I'm out the door. It doesn't take a great detective to tell she was scared, despite the strong front she was holding up.