I wasn’t remembering, it would have to wait—I didn’t have time to dwell. I parked in a self-pay lot in Hollywood and left without buying the dash ticket from the machine. Pilar had probably driven; we’d just take her car from here.
Pilar was easily the most organized person I’d ever met, and had worked for Arthur and Checker for a little over a year. She’d continued with them part-time through the early months of starting her own business, but her clientele had taken off so fast, she’d been gone before the two of them could find someone new. Checker had flat-out admitted they liked her so much, they’d been dragging their feet on replacing her.
I supposed it was difficult to find someone good at spreadsheets who was also comfortable getting shot at occasionally and who wouldn’t call the police on shady sometimes-colleagues like me.
Colleagues. Even colleagues knew about their coworkers’ families. What the hell did I count as, then?
When I got to the W Hotel, dolled-up patrons strolled in and out of the twilit evening, all of them constructed to be beautiful and walking to be seen. Women gleamed poreless from their strappy heels to their manicured fingertips. Men sported suits designed to look recklessly casual and hairdos gelled to be artfully messy. A few people of indeterminate gender played up one look or the other with equal flamboyance.
Hollywood at its finest.
I crossed the star-inlaid sidewalk and slipped into the glitzy lobby. Some sort of red-carpet event was going on in a courtyard through the back, but I didn’t see Pilar. I started a systematic search of the ground floor for event rooms, keeping an eye out for hotel security. A few of the peacocked patrons graced me with a combat-boots-up stare, but no one tried to stop me.
I caught sight of Pilar’s energetic posture and stride flitting between name-tagged hotel staff in a grand, long ballroom filled with round tables draped in tablecloths so snowy, they were blinding. Caterers bustled about setting wineglasses and flatware.
“Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you?” A very large member of the hotel security staff had appeared by my elbow while I was distracted. The subtext of his baritone request was, If you don’t have a good reason to be here, allow me to escort you out. Immediately.
“I just have to grab my friend,” I said, and sidestepped around him.
“Ma’am—”
He reached out a beefy hand to block me.
I didn’t hurt him, but I grabbed his wrist and pushed at exactly the angle lacking an equal-and-opposite normal force. The security guard lost his balance, half-pirouetted, and landed on his ass. His face clouded.
“He tripped,” I announced to the suddenly staring hotel staff.
“Cas!” Pilar rushed toward me with wide eyes. She had put on some weight since I’d seen her last, and she wore it well, with an air of authority. She also wore a deep purple cocktail dress that was turning heads, and her makeup and hair were a few orders of magnitude sharper than usual. “Cas, honey, I love you, but—what are you doing? And I’m sorry, you really can’t be here dressed like that—”
I glanced down at my usual cargo-pants-and-boots ensemble. There was also some broken glass and blood on it I hadn’t noticed. “Sorry,” I said, not meaning it. “Pilar, Arthur’s missing. Checker’s been trying to get in touch with you—we need your help with his office. His files—”
Pilar looked stricken. “Arthur’s missing? What happened?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. He just disappeared. Now come on.”
“I can’t—” Her head swiveled from side to side, and she flailed her hands miserably. “I can’t just leave—I’m in charge here! Our client is—”
“Pilar,” I said. “It’s Arthur.”
“Ma’am, do you know this woman?” asked the security guard, who had regained his feet.
“Yes, I do. It’s all right. Um.” Pilar cast me an agonized expression and then reached out to snag a black-and-white-clad server by the elbow. “Get Catherine for me, now,” she said, before turning back. “Give me five minutes to square things here. And can you please wait outside? People are staring.”
Ten minutes later, I was zipping Pilar’s car onto the freeway while reading a series of texts from Checker, the long and short of which was that he hadn’t been able to get us canine help on such short notice, but he was still trying, and would I please be careful and possibly consider waiting even though he knew I wasn’t going to.
“Can you please not do that while you’re driving?” Pilar said,