Inherit the Dead

thicker than Randy Hyde, his hair graying. He was what Randy would be in fifteen or twenty years.
    “I hope so,” Perry said. “I’m Perry Christo. I’m a private detective, and I’m looking for a woman.”
    “Aren’t we all?” Randy laughed. “But I haven’t got a spare one. Only car parts.” Randy was handsome as well as brawny, which was maybe the answer to what Angel, a girl with money, was doing with a guy like this. The mechanic was blessed with absolutely regular white teeth, thick wheat-colored hair, and a jaw and nose like a Greek god’s. There was no denying that Randy exuded vitality. But his hands and nails were embedded with dark lines of grease that all the scrubbing in the world wouldn’t remove.
    “Like I said,” Perry repeated, “I’m looking for a woman. A specific woman. If you’re Randy Hyde, I’ve heard you know her very well.”
    Randy pointed to the embroidered name on his chest. “I’m the only Randy here. Like I said, I ain’t got a woman in the shop at the moment, but I do know a lot of women. And I know plenty of them very well.”
    “I’m sure you do, but I’m trying to ascertain the present whereabouts of only one: Angelina Loki,” he said flatly.
    The humor went out of Randy’s face, and he raised the flap to come out from behind the counter. The space suddenly seemed much smaller as the two men confronted one another.
    “What makes you think I might know where Angel is?” Randy asked. He was close enough for Perry to see golden stubble on his cheeks. Perry was rooted to his spot on the floor.
    “A little bird told me,” Perry said.
    “I bet it was a little canary,” Randy snarled. “And I bet she’s named Lilith Bates.”
    Perry shrugged. “Does it make any difference? I need to talk to Angel.”
    “Why?”
    “Not your business, grease monkey.” Perry tossed out the insult, hoping to get a rise out of the guy.
    “Grease monkey—really? You want something from me, and this is the shit I get from you? Some detective.” Randy was sneering, but there was something else in his face. Maybe a trace of genuine hurt. But it was gone as fast as it had surfaced, and now Randy’s face showed only anger. It was clear Perry had touched the right nerve.
    “Okay, I was out of line,” Perry said. “But I do have to find her. There are legal issues involved—I can tell you that much. And I understand that Angel and you have hooked up in the past.”
    “Maybe we have before, and maybe we did two weeks ago,” Randy said. “But I haven’t seen her in a week. I can’t help you.”
    “You can’t help me, or you won’t help me? I’m not looking to screw her up. This is all to her advantage.”
    “Easy for you to say. How do I know what you want? You’re not from around here—I don’t know you. And Angel would have called if she’d wanted me to tell you anything. So unless your car’s thrown a rod, leave.”
    “Not without your answering some questions. Angel hasn’t called anyone. She’s vanished off the face of the earth, as far as her family knows. That’s why I’m looking for her, and I need your help.”
    Randy seemed to think about his next move for a minute. “Hey, Uncle Dirk,” Randy called, and the other mechanic ambled into the office from the bay. He brought a gust of machine smell with him. He closed the office door behind him and leaned on the counter. Up close, it was apparent he was even bigger than Randy, and had maybe two inches on Perry. He had a long scar around his neck, and a small, tight beard. His hair had once been as blond as Randy’s. The two men were obviously fish out of the same gene pool.
    “You the owner?” Perry asked.
    “That would be Gil, and he ain’t here. I’m the manager.” He angled his chin at Perry but spoke to Randy. “What’s this guy want? He don’t look like our usual clientele,” Dirk said, looking at the visitor with cold blue eyes. Dirk was tattooed, too, but his tats were probably prison ink. “Our customers can afford something better than that heap out front.”
    “He’s looking for Angel; he says she’s missing,” Randy said. “How long’s it been since she called me?”
    “That blond bitch with the legs?” Dirk said.
    Randy nodded.
    “She called you about two weeks ago, am I right? From that no-tell Memory Motel. You couldn’t figure out what she was doing in a place like that, no matter how famous it is.”
    “See?” Randy turned to Perry. “She called me. I