Cordelia Chase had her own phone number. When I called it, I got a recorded message.
"This is Cordelia. If you are calling me right now, you aren't up on current events and you can't be that close a friend, because if you were you'd know I was in Mexico until August 18. Leave me a message, and if I care enough I'll get back to you."
I tried Willow Rosenberg next. There were 3 Rosenbergs in the phonebook. Since Snyder characterized Willow as "a brilliant student" I took a chance on the entry for Dr. Ira and Dr. Sheila Rosenberg. I got an answer on the third ring.
"Hello?" the voice sounded young and female. Promising.
"Willow Rosenberg?"
"Uhm, yes. May I ask who is calling?"
Spenser, sleuth supreme, I thought. But I simply said my name.
"Oh! You're the private investigator who's looking for Buffy!"
"Yes I am. How did you know that?"
"Well, Gi….uhmmm…Dawn told me."
"Buffy's sister."
"Yeah. You talked to Mrs. Summers yesterday."
"I did," I said. "May I talk to you?"
"Uhm."
"Didn't mean to stump you."
"Oh that's OK," Willow said. Then she started talking again to someone who must have been in the house with her.
"I'm talking to that Spenser guy. He wants to ask me questions about Buffy."
Pause, there was another voice, male, that I couldn't make out. I heard Willow put her hand over the speaker. But I could still hear some of what she was saying.
"I know…Xander….Giles…but what if….OK."
The phone clicked, then was picked up again.
"Oh, uhm, sorry. Can't talk. 'Bye!"
Then Willow hung up the phone for good.
There were five Harrises listed in the phone book. I got answering machines for all five. I looked up the Rosenberg's entry again and got the address. Then I got in the rental car and drove to the Rosenberg's.
The Rosenberg house was a largish two story bungalow, probably built in the 1920's, a bit smaller than one would expect for a couple of doctors. An ancient Citroen was parked in front of the driveway, and as I approached the front porch of the house the front door opened and Rupert Giles came out.
"Well, Rupert, you get around."
"As do you, Mr. Spenser."
The door opened again and a short, red headed teenage girl came out. She was wearing overalls, Keds, and a short sleeved yellow shirt. Following her was a teenage boy about medium height, slim, with very dark hair, wearing blue jeans and an open blue and white plaid shirt over a grey t-shirt. He had a short cast on his right forearm.
I looked at the girl.
"Willow Rosenberg I presume." She ducked her head and blushed a little and looked guilty.
I turned to the boy. "And by any chance are you Xander Harris?"
The boy looked at Willow.
"Boy, he's good," Xander said.
Giles moved between me and the two kids.
"You are not talking to these two," he said.
"Giles, Giles, Giles," I said. "You keep saying that you actually want me to find Buffy, but everywhere I turn, here you are getting in the way."
"Maybe he can help, Giles," Willow said.
"Willow, you know as well as I do that there are things about Buffy we can not discuss with strangers," Giles said. "Mr. Spenser may be well intentioned, but we all have a trust to keep."
"And what would that trust be, Rupert?" I said.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a trust now would it?" Giles said. "And by the way, have I ever told you how much I like people I don't know calling me 'Rupert'?"
Giles approached me, stopping just out of easy reach, and took off his glasses. His eyes glittered.
"Giles?" Willow said. "You aren't going to fight him are you? He looks kinda muscley."
"Yeah, Giles...he looks pretty big and pretty well developed. And he looks like he's been in a few fights already," Xander said.
Giles didn't take his eyes off me.
"I assure you, Xander, if push came to shove I could handle myself," Giles said. "But it hasn't come to that yet. Has it, Mr. Spenser?"
"No, it hasn't," I said. "But I am starting to lose patience with you being the gatekeeper to all things Buffy."
Giles looked at me and put on his glasses, smiling that slight smile of his.
"That's a pretty good description of my role here actually."