Andrea brought the station wagon to a creaking halt in the Boutique parking garage, with a fish tail of muffler smoke blowing back into the open windows. Xeno fanned the smoke from his face and got out of the car, then walked through the desolate concrete lot, until he reached the lobby entrance. He pushed through the glass doors, crossed the espresso marble flooring, and went to the receptionist, dwarfed by a massive deep berry wine reception desk. She was a twenty-something twig in a dirty rose suit with a ponytail pulled back so tight, it looked painful. She paid no attention to Xeno, gawking over a male bodybuilder's magazine, chewing on potato chips, one at a time.
"Hello," Xeno leaned in, reading the name on the receptionist's badge, "Carmella."
"What's that?" Carmella snidely looked up, noticing Xeno standing over her. She ditched the magazine, adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses, and glanced at her workstation telepane. "May I help you?"
"Intellegella." Xeno flashed his badge. "I'm working on a case."
"What kind of case? A case of beer? Do you have an appointment?"
"Velva and I go way back."
"Back where? To the back seat?"
"May I speak with her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"She's in intensive care."
"What happened?"
"She was burned in a fire."
"How did it happen?"
"I don't know, but they hosed her off in time."
"Have you seen this girl?" Xeno held out the Polaroid of Trianne.
"Trianne?" She stuck another potato chip in her mouth and bit down. "Haven't seen her."
"Have any idea where she might have gone?"
"No, I don't get paid enough to care."
"Mind if I look around Trianne's suite?"
"Yeah, I do mind."
"I could get a warrant."
"I could care less about your warrant." She chewed at him without flinching. "Got any Black Magic?"
"Black Magic? Geez . . ." He felt through his pockets.
"If you can make my crappy, thankless, soul sucking, job more interesting, I might give you her key card."
"I'm sorry. I don't have any on me. I'd have to make a few calls, or go downtown and scrounge around."
"What good does that do me? I'm bored. I want excitement now."
"Are you always this insolent?"
"At Boutique, all dead end corporate jobs require insolent employees. It's a prerequisite. Just because you work for Intelle-whatever, and you have that stupid costume jewelry badge, doesn't mean you can waltz in here and do as—" Carmella froze in mid sentence, looking like she had just been goosed.
Xeno waved his hand in front of her eyes, wondering what was wrong with her.
"Look around as much as you like!" Carmella said, flashing a dopey smile, happy to accommodate Xeno out of the blue. "Here's Trianne's key card!" She removed Trianne's keycard from her desk and handed it to Xeno. Good luck with your investigation, and say 'hi' to my new friend!" She waved towards the lobby entrance.
"Your new—?" Xeno turned to the lobby entrance to see Number Three standing outside the glass doors, staring straight at Carmella, his eyes radiating a weird purple glow behind dark glasses, swaying her mind to do his bidding. Xeno went to the elevator, and smacked the call button, anxious for the carriage to reach the ground floor, glancing back at Number Three, wondering how long he could hold out. When the elevator doors hissed open, he saw Mia standing inside, looking sullen, out of sorts, until she finally looked up.
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YOU ARE READING
Xenoman
Science FictionXeno yearns to have access to The Nth Dimension like The White Boys, famed telepaths who suffered brain damage when they made contact with extraterrestrial intelligence. Out of work as a bartender since the Shoki Pao dance club mysteriously burned d...