Swift Justice Read Online Free PDF Page B

you’d be in to apply for Trent’s job, and Trent was Bernie until his folks made him quit ’cause school’s started up again.”
    “Where do I change?” Gigi asked, resigned to her fate.
    “Bathroom.” Dylan jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
    With the buffalo head clutched in both hands and the rest of the costume draped over her shoulder, Georgia made her way through the mercifully empty restaurant to the bathroom. No way could she maneuver the head in one of the two tiny stalls, so she balanced it on the sink and ducked into a stall to strip. Grime in the tile grout had her aching for a scrub brush and a strong bleach solution. Maybe she should say something to Dylan about it. She’d almost wiggled into the fuzzy brown costume, luckily on the baggy side, managing not to dip the tail in the toilet, when the bathroom door squeaked open and she heard a startled “Ack!” The door clunked closed.
    Emerging from the stall, Georgia giggled, imagining how the sight of Bernie’s head on the sink must’ve startled some unsuspecting girl who only needed to relieve herself. All inclination to laugh left as she fitted the shaggy head over hers and peered at her reflection through the eyeholes in Bernie’s neck. Something straggled down in front of her field of vision, and she realized it was the buffalo’s beard. Walking carefully to counterbalance the weight atop her shoulders, she looped her tail over her arm and trudged back into the restaurant, where Dylan was waiting.
    He eyed her critically. “Hm. Well, it’ll have to do. But you have to look happier. Cheery, cheery, cheery.” He grinned sowide Gigi was sure it hurt his cheeks. “The kids don’t want a gloomy Bernie.”
    Wondering how the kids would know if she were suicidal or manic beneath Bernie’s shaggy head, Gigi swished her tail and shuffled off to greet a young mother with three toddlers as they came through the restaurant door shouting, “It’s Bernie!”

     
    With Gigi gainfully employed asking, “Do you want fries with that buffalo patty?” I had the office to myself Wednesday morning. Ah, bliss. I’d helped her load up most of the tchotchkes last evening, graciously conceding that the ficus and the photos could stay. I plumed myself on my generosity and sneaked a peek at the photos once I had my Pepsi in hand. Most of them showed two kids, a boy and a girl, from toddlerhood to midteens. The boy looked older, with longish hair and a smirk as he leaned against a red Beemer in the most recent photo. The girl, about fourteen, appeared in a variety of sequined, feathered, and increasingly sophisticated skating costumes. Once she got the braces off she was going to be a knockout with blond hair, a creamy complexion, and long legs. If Gigi looked like that when Les met her, I could understand why he’d fallen for her.
    Back at my desk, I reached for the phone and called a buddy of mine at the Colorado Springs Police Department. It had occurred to me last night that if Baby Girl Hogeboom was reduced to foisting her baby on Melissa Lloyd, she might be a runaway. Perhaps, just perhaps, someone had reported her missing and I could get a line on her that way.
    Detective Connor Montgomery was willing to look through the missing persons files. “What have you got for a description, Charlie?”
    “Seventeen years old, white female, recently gave birth.”
    A pause. I could just see his dark brows drawing together, the corners of his shapely mouth getting tight. “You’re joking, right?”
    “Nope, that’s all I’ve got. I know it’s not much.”
    “Not much? It’s nothing! Jesus, Charlie, why’re you wasting my time?” The sound of paper crumpling traveled over the phone line. The line went dead.
    “Nice talking to you, too,” I said to the dial tone. Shit. Still, it wasn’t a totally wasted call. I knew Montgomery wouldn’t be able to resist peeking at the missing persons files for the local area at least, and he’d give me a call if