Chapter 2

The Client

"I got to the elevator where the kid working it knows me. You've met her a few times, boss. She's a good kid."

"'Working late, Mr. Philips?'

'Hmm? Yeah. Guess so.'

'I just happened to let a customer into your office about ten minutes ago.'

'Did ya now? That's nice. Cute?'

'...Yeah. Real cute.' The kid seemed a little confused - sarcastic, even, which is new for her; but maybe I've been rubbing off on her. I couldn't blame her once I saw my client. See, I have a bit of a reputation for tracking down husbands when their wives are worried about them - or worried more about what the hell it is they've been up to. It's why Corneo and me are on such great terms that he tries to snuff me out once every month or so. I had no idea that I'd be walking in to find a dude instead of a seething wife. Not just any dude, either. I mean, bigger 'n Rude, even. This guy had some serious height on me, and I'm pretty sure that he coulda been the linebacker for the Chattanooga Chocobos once upon a time. I knew that I'd have to be careful around him before I knew anything else about the guy, because he definitely had less brain cells than one of those feather brains. One wrong step and he'd snap me in half without really thinking about it, and my reflexes aren't what they used to be.

So the first thing he did was introduce himself to me - ya know, instead of apologizin' for rifling through my stuff, because I could tell that he had been in my desk and just about everything that resembled a drawer or a shelf in my office. I still have no clue what the hell he thought he would find. So anyway, like I said, he introduced himself.

'Name's Loz. I want you to find someone for me.'

'Someone, huh? This someone got a name?'

'Jenova. Jenova Valent.'

'Alright,' I said, sizing him up. Yeah, he had a foot on me easy, maybe even a foot and a half. 'Got anything but a name? Last known address, place of employment? Anything that'll get me any leads on 'er?' I asked while I real careful like put the desk between him and me. Wouldn't do much for me if he got mad, but I figured if I don't have much for muscle I probably at least had a little speed on the guy.

'Not sure,' he says. "I been locked up for a long time, but she used to work at a bar once.' Used to work at a bar. Lovely. Real descriptive. I could tell this fella was goin' places. Like probably back to jail eventually.

'Okay. Well what does she look like?'

'Wasn't ever no one else like mother. She was cute like a ribbon on a box. All the company men liked her. I didn't want her to get into no trouble, see? On account of she's my ma.' His mom? Oh, this was going to be a weird one.

'Look, do ya remember the name of the bar she worked at? I assume that you checked and she doesn't work there any more?'

'No she doesn't. Hey, you're pretty smart to figure that out so quick like. Come on, I'll take you.'

'That's okay, man. Look, it's late, everyone'll be starting to close up right now and-'

'I would like to take you to the place that mother worked,' the big man insisted. Emphatically. Like he would break my legs if I refused again. So I agreed. I enjoy walking after all, and I enjoy staying alive even more. Besides, I didn't have the cash for a hospital bill.

- - - - - - - -

We arrived at a quaint little hole in the wall. I got the idea from the interior that it's nicer now than it was when this Jenova happened to work the floor. See, it wasn't really set up for show girls anymore, didn't even have ones selling cigarettes on the side. Just a good, honest bar. Heaven on Seventh, it's called. A bit unoriginal to be sure, but it is on Seventh Street and Seventh Avenue, and the address is 777, so I can't really blame her for trying to be creative. Her. Yeah. The new owner of the shack previously known as Firion's is a chick goes by the name of Tifa Lockhart. It's a nice enough place, just watch out for her and her spiky-haired boyfriend - oh, and her bouncer. He made Loz look like a toothpick and, I swear that I was not drunk, the man had a tommygun grafted onto his arm.

I am not getting into any trouble there ever.

Anyway, Loz rolled up to the counter and took a look around. I'm pretty sure that I heard a fair bit of tittering from aways off in the corner that he lumbered towards, but any knock that my ego may have taken from their fawning over the silver-haired moron was assuaged the next moment when the guy opened his mouth. Let's just say that his hair is the only part of his head that's silver. Pretty sure his tongue is made of bricks; crumbling, disjointed, broken bricks. I didn't hear his question, but I was already well over ninety percent certain that it had something to do with that Jenova dame. But no matter what it was, I could tell that they made him mad by whatever it was that the snotty looking one with straight black hair in a moogle brooch answered back. Given what I knew about him, she had probably informed Loz that she didn't know the dame and had never even heard of her. Probably said a thing or two else that was were supposed to be unflattering but woulda just made the woman whom I suspected Jenova to be laugh like a hyena. Anyway, I stepped in and calmed things down before old gun-arm had to get involved and make us leave the quaint little place before we got what we had come for.

'Hey look, I don't want any trouble, yo,' the bartender said at my elbow, and that's when I realized I knew her. Should have when I first walked in, but I was a bit preoccupied with my half-witted attempt to babysit my client. Just an old acquaintance is all, me and Rude had a few fights with her and her boyfriend when she went on some rebelious streak and turned terrorist for a few months. Turned out we both of us had some things wrong and some things right, so in the end we called it a day and I haven't seen her since, but I have a feeling that she's got my number lying around somewhere just in case, just like I got hers and her delivery boy fiancé's. if he's the reason my mattress was delayed I may have to go back and have words with them. Anyway, they got nothing to do with the case. I smiled at her easy like.

'Hey, Tifa. Long time no see. And sorry about this idiot,' I mumbled the last part, tilting my head at my client; and then I yelled at him. 'Yo, Loz. Stop bothering the other customers, yeah? It's been years. No one around here knows who the hell she is.'

'Yeah. Let's go find someplace else,' he muttered, stalking back to me. I remember thinking that I should be worried that he may have forgotten who I was, but I opted to ignore that in favor of attempting to minimize property damage when he reached behind the bar and snagged two bottles of whiskey that I could see were really gonna hurt me right in the wallet. Gun-arm started to look all threatening, but Tifa waved him down. I may not have seen Tifa in years, but she knows that I'm good for it. I was able to slide two twenties across the counter with a quick request to set me up with a tab - so Gunarm doesn't shoot me for the rest that I owe - before Loz dragged me out by the collar. I hate it when guys who are bigger than me do that. Makes me feel small.

'Hey! Hey! Lay off me already, will ya?' I shouted at him once we'd cleared the door. The guy had the nerve to stare at me like he'd forgotten that he was holding me by the neck. I'm not too surprised, he probably had forgotten. It had been all of five seconds since he had latched onto my shirt and all but strangled me with my own clothes, after all. See, that's why I don't wear ties anymore. So finally Loz sort of blinked and shook his head while staring at me. I really didn't care for the smile that he gave me, but what the hell could I do about that?

'You're alright, mister. You know that?'

'Yeah, sure, sure. Now listen, Loz. It's kinda late. Lets you and me part ways for now. I'll call you when I can find something out about her, alright?'

'Okay. Fine. But you find mother.'

'Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on, alright? Just remember we can't rush things like this? You wait until I call you, and it could be a few days or maybe a few weeks. Understand?'

'Yeah, I get you. You wouldn't fool me, would you?'

'If I were in the habit of fooling my clients I would have starved a long time ago,' I replied snarkilly before I realized that it was completely lost on him. 'Nah, I can't lie to my clients, huh? It'd be bad for business, Loz.' I tried to simplify it, and I thought that he understood. Or maybe he understood and just forgot, which is equally likely. Anyway, I was left standing outside of the bar looking like a sot with a bottle of whiskey that had set me back probably a month as Loz walked away into the shadow of the mako glow with the other one. I thought briefly about going back into the bar, but I figured that while Tifa wouldn't mind if I went back in, the rest of the patrons - or old gun arm - might, so I decide to head back to my own hole in the wall and try and get some sleep.

This time when I got back to my office, I didn't turn my lights on.