The Big Sheep Read Online Free PDF

impatient, and I sympathized. I wondered if all her interactions with men went like this. What might it be like, going through life so beautiful that the males in your vicinity are all reduced to drooling dullards? I wanted to hug her, reassure her that it wasn’t her, it was us. Apologize on behalf of my gender, for all the inconveniences she had suffered at our hands. She hadn’t asked to be born beautiful, after all. Cruel fate, cursing such a delicate creature with—
    â€œHello!” she shouted. “Mr. Keane. Can I see him?”
    â€œYes!” I shouted back, inadvertently startling both of us. “Sorry. Yes. Of course you may see him.” Of course! Except that I was fairly certain Keane wouldn’t want to be disturbed. In any case, it was my job to vet any potential clients before letting them talk to Keane. Why had I violated protocol for this girl? Another glance at Priya, and the answer was obvious. Her face was like logic Kryptonite. I was struck by a brief impulse to make a run for it, dash past her out to the street, and wait for her to leave while things sorted themselves out. But that was my low brain talking again, the lizard brain. Fight or flight. This situation called for a third alternative: finesse. I would handle the situation as delicately as I could and hope for the best.
    â€œListen, Miss Mistry—” I said.
    â€œPriya is fine,” she said.
    â€œOkay, Priya,” I said. I found that if I focused on the wall behind her, she became a vaguely attractive blur, albeit a blur with a voice like an angel who smelled like cherries and vanilla. “Here’s the thing: Mr. Keane is a brilliant investigator, but he tends to be a bit, uh, scattered. I find it helps if I interview any potential clients before they meet him, to ascertain the core facts of the case.”
    She said nothing. I’d have wagered she was regarding me dubiously, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off the wall sconce just over her right ear.
    â€œI don’t mean to be presumptuous,” I babbled on. “You are looking to hire Mr. Keane, correct?”
    The blur nodded.
    â€œOkay,” I said, feeling like I was gathering some momentum. “Why don’t you come with me to my office?”
    The blur shrugged, which I took as agreement. I turned and led her to my shabby little office behind the lobby. The room was small and filled with mismatched office furniture and bookshelves lined with paperbacks, mostly pre-Collapse crime novels. The décor was only a couple of steps up from that of the lobby, but it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant place, owing largely to the nonbarricaded window behind my desk that looked out on the alley on the side of the building. The brick wall of the building next door didn’t provide much of a view, but at least there was some natural light and you didn’t feel like you were in a prison cell.
    I took a seat behind my desk, and the blur that was Priya Mistry sat in one of the plush vinyl chairs across from me.
    â€œSo, what brings you to the offices of Erasmus Keane?” I asked, looking intently at the door hinge just over her left shoulder.
    Priya took a deep breath. “I … I think someone is trying to kill me,” she said.
    Something about the way she said it gave me chills. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words from a potential client, but with Priya there was a weird sort of detachment behind them. It wasn’t that I thought she was lying (and I’m pretty damn good at telling when someone is lying to me), but she gave me the impression that being afraid for her life was the least of her concerns.
    I risked a glance at her face, and was surprised to find myself looking at a scared little girl. It’s odd how physical perfection can blind you to a person’s basic humanity. Now that I looked at her—really looked—I could see there was more to her than her beauty. She