It was a typical morning in the office, by which I meant I had no clients. This was fine by me because I had a rare rush of them just last week, as if some kind of magic bomb had gone off in Belport making everything just a little screwy. If I was lucky, it wouldn’t be the start of something bigger. I was just finishing up case notes about a lucky quarter. It had reminded me a little of Don Iverson and his strange luck.
The phone ringing shook me out of the reverie, but I let Jessie answer it while I finished off the last two sentences. I closed the folder, and walked it out to her for filing.
Jessie kept pulling her ear away from the phone’s receiver as more than one voice shouted on the other end of the line.
“Please hold,” she said, and clicked the button.
“Someone named Kate says she needs to talk to you, Boss.”
“Did you say Kate?” I asked.
“And there was shouting, other voices? A man?”
“Yeah, and they kept swearing the whole time. Who are they?”
I sighed. “Storm Riders. Go get us a lunch, and stop by the drugstore to get me something for the migraine I’m about to have.”
Jessie opened her mouth, but I just held up a hand as I headed back into my office.