‘For once, Daix, I’m going to say: cut the jokes. This is important.’
‘You? Cut the jokes? Now I know s**t’s got serious.’
‘Daix. Do you know where Brianne Lamarre is?’
She hesitated.
Daix’s the incorrigible smart mouth, with an answer for everything. I know, I know; coming from me, that’s rich. But you really can’t shut Daix up.
For her to be at a loss for an answer, however briefly, is never a good sign.
‘You don’t know,’ I filled in.
‘I had her, I swear. Then she — vanished.’
‘Vanished.’
Daix paused again, a silence I’d term, in her case, deafening. ‘Okay, she clocked me.’
‘You? You were personally tailing her?’
‘Not me as in physically me. What, you think I have nothing better to do than follow vaguely questionable people around all day in the hope they’ll do something shady
