Part 19 (1/2)

I took them silently, glancing at the picture. I wondered how she came to have a set of keys for Troy's apartment.

”What's his job?” I asked.

”He's the head chef at the Golden Harvest restaurant. He didn't show up for work over the weekend. The police won't do anything yet. All that information is on the drive.”

I nodded. The Golden Harvest was her signature restaurant and the priciest place in town. Certainly not somewhere I could afford to eat, but I had heard the chef was something special. People would notice his absence.

”Married? Partner? Local family?” She just shook her head.

”Okay. I'll start with his apartment and I'll call you.”

She nodded her thanks and made a call to her driver to pick her up, before turning back to me.

”May I ask a personal question, Amber?”

I shrugged. ”Of course.”

”Those are really beautiful boots. They're handmade, aren't they?”

I pulled my jeans up to the tops of the boots and stretched my legs out beside the table to show her, obscurely pleased she'd noticed. ”Yup. Made by a friend of mine.”

”They're so soft!” She felt the supple leather. ”Does he do it as a business?”

”Sure. Here, I'll give you his contact info.” I fiddled with my cell and sent Werner's details to her.

”Werner Schumacher?” she asked. ”Mr. Schumacher is the shoe maker?”

”Indeed he is.” I laughed. ”Your car's here.” I pointed at the black limo and the driver shouldering his way through the doors.

She got up and took my hand, squeezing it.

”Thank you, Amber. Please call as soon as you can.” She started towards the door and stopped as if something had just occurred to her. She turned back and waved at my boots. ”Do you ride?”