The Scent of Murder by Barbara Block

ends.
    â€œYou don’t believe that he wants to?”
    She shrugged her shoulders.
    â€œAmy’s in a lot of trouble,” I added.
    â€œYou already said that.”
    â€œLook, all I want to do is talk to her. I just want to make sure she’s all right.”
    â€œSo you say,” the girl sneered. I realized she’d listened to too many adults making too many empty promises to believe mine. I’d have to earn her trust. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time. I was trying to decide what to say next, when Melanie muttered something.
    I turned to her. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t hear what you said.”
    Melanie’s hand went up to her hair. She began pulling on a lock. “Toon Town’s name is Wallace Gleason,” she blurted out. “He used to hang out with my cousin’s friend. That’s how I know.”
    â€œMelanie!” her friend yelled.
    I ignored the friend and concentrated on Melanie. “Do you know where he and Amy were going?”
    Melanie shook her head. “They never said.”
    â€œDo you remember anything else about him?”
    â€œHe’s weird.”
    â€œWeird as in how?”
    â€œHe’s got all this electronic stuff. He’s always spying on people, listening in to hear what they say. And he’s got these special glasses you can see in the dark with.”
    â€œNight vision binoculars.”
    â€œYeah. That’s it. He loves all that stuff.”
    â€œMelanie, shut up!” her friend cried, before I could ask another question.
    â€œNo.” Melanie’s eyes narrowed. Her hands went to her hips. “I won’t. I’m tired of you ordering me around. The guy is a total sleazebag.”
    The two girls glared at each other.
    â€œThanks,” I told Melanie. “You’ve done the right thing.”
    She studied the floor instead of answering. I guess maybe she was having second thoughts. I took one of my business cards out of my wallet and put it in Melanie’s hand. Given the coldness of the room, it felt surprisingly warm. “If you or your friend decide not to go to Chicago, give me a call. Maybe I can help.”
    â€œWe don’t need your help,” the bigger girl yelled. “We can take care of ourselves. We’re fine.”
    Her voice vibrated inside my head like a guilty memory, as I walked back down the hallway. “What’s the other girl’s name?” I asked.
    â€œCindy. Why?”
    â€œJust curious. Do you know their last names?”
    From Manuel’s expression, you would have thought I was enquiring after their blood type. “I never asked.”
    We left the way we came in. I took a deep breath of fresh air, while Manuel fitted the plywood back in place.
    â€œWhat now?” he asked, when he was done.
    I considered my answer, while I surveyed the sky. It was starless. “Two things,” I replied. “I’m going to see if I can find Mr. Wallace Gleason, and I’m going to have another conversation with Amy’s mother.”
    â€œTonight?”
    â€œNo. Tomorrow. How crazy do you think I am?”
    Manuel didn’t answer, which was probably all to the good. I dropped him off at Rabbit’s house and went home. It wasn’t until I walked into the kitchen that I knew something was wrong.

Chapter 9
    O f course I didn’t realize anything was amiss right away. I wasn’t really paying strict attention. But then, who does in their own home? I fed James, glanced at the day’s mail, and poured myself a shot of Scotch and drank it, after which I got a pint of Ben & Jerry’s English Toffee Crunch out of the freezer and started eating. It wasn’t until I was done and went over to check my answering machine for messages that I realized I had a problem. The machine was gone. It took me another second before I noticed my box was gone, too. So were my CDs. That’s when it finally