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"But you have to. I can get more money if you need it."

I considered that, even though I didn't care about the money. As I said, I had plenty. She hadn't even mentioned an amount though, so her jumping to the idea that she needed more seemed flawed. But then, a photogenic kid with a missing dad would always get attention, and I wondered if we could translate that into something with the media that might help her. Because while I didn't find people, I did have a few contacts in the press. "Have you considered taking it to the net to see if someone knows anything?"

 

"I thought about it," she said. "But I didn't, because if somebody did something to him, they might come after me, too."

It was good thinking for a kid—for anyone, really—being safe with what she put out into the galaxy on social media, but at the same time, it was a bit paranoid, and a bit illogical since she'd released it into the world via the crowdfunding. I'm as big a conspiracy theorist as the next guy—I've seen enough wild stuff where I pretty much have to be—but she seemed a bit out there. Despite what she said to Mac, the most likely answer was that her father had just stopped messaging. Or he'd met someone and taken off. I try not to think the worst of people I don't know, but, well...they're people. And a lot of people are shitty. Even ones with resourceful daughters. "What about a private detective? Someone who does this kind of thing professionally?"

"You don't think I tried that first? You think the first thing I thought of was flying halfway around the planet in the hopes that a celebrity hero would find my dad for me?"

Actually, I had thought that. In my defense, I have no idea what goes on in the minds of twelve-year-olds. But her sarcasm was justified. "You couldn't find anybody?"

"Nobody would take the case. They didn't want to travel to the outer solar system."

"And you think I do?"

She hesitated at that—the first time I'd seen that in her since she'd arrived. That endeared her to me even more, because it showed that she could reevaluate things when presented with new information. There are plenty of adults who can't do that. But then resolve took over her face again, and it became clear that this girl wasn't going to accept no for an answer. She'd also already proven that she was the kind of person who would do something drastic. You know, like fly ten thousand klicks to hunt down a man she didn't know and try to convince him to find her missing dad. I didn't want her to do anything else rash until we could get her back to her family, so I decided I could at least poke around. It didn't require travel. If the guy was still alive, no matter where he was, he'd leave some kind of evidence. As it happened, I knew someone who could track that kind of thing.

"I tell you what," I said. "I'm not taking the job, and I'm not making you any promises."

She started to protest, but I held my hand up to forestall her.

 

"But," I continued, "I'll do a little initial looking and see what I can find. Okay? We can talk again tomorrow."

She considered it for a moment, and I thought she might cry (which could have been me projecting—again, twelve-year-olds aren't exactly my forte), but she steeled herself and nodded. With that settled and her meal finished, I shuffled her off to Martha, who had offered to put her up in their guest room. Our town didn't have a hotel, and I certainly couldn't put her up at my place, if only because of how it would look for an old man to be taking in a young girl. I promised to talk to her the next day, figuring that would be enough of an incentive to keep her from running again while we organized her trip home.

With that done, I ordered another beer. A man has to have his priorities straight.

CHAPTER TWO

I got home fairly late, but I had questions that I needed a computer genius to look into, and Ganos would be awake. She's a ridiculous night owl, plus it's an hour earlier where she is. She and her partner, Parker, had moved to Ridia about eighteen months prior, finally caving in to my insistent requests. She didn't have as many enemies as I did, and if you asked her, she'd have told you that she could take care of herself. I made it about me so that she could keep that illusion. With a computer, she was the baddest of the bad, but that wouldn't do much if someone with a gun physically showed up at her door. I sold it to her that I needed her nearby, just in case. I had exaggerated a bit, but at the same time, it did make me more secure, and it gave me an excuse to pay for their move without it seeming untoward.

I texted first, so when I called, she answered after one buzz. "What's up, sir?"

"Something weird came up today."

"Weird as in we need to pack and get out of town as quietly as possible, or..."

"Nothing like that," I assured her.

"You've said that before."

"Fair point. But no, this is about a little girl."

"Whoa, whoa, sir. I don't want to hear about—"

"Grow the fuck up, Ganos," I said, but I was laughing as I said it. "She apparently got crowdfunding to hire me to find her missing dad."

"Give me a second," she said. "Yep. Here it is. Nice. She raised forty thousand. You don't come cheap."

"I don't find missing persons for any price."

 

"Yet here you are on the comm with me, about to ask me to find one..."