“Matthew, wake up.”
Nikki’s voice was distant and jarring as it broke the dream I was having. The sensation of floating disappeared and I felt the weight of my eyelids as I forced them open, and tried to get my neck to work. It was sore from the angle my head had flopped at.
“What is it?” I croaked. My mouth was dry.
“A large truck just turned down the street. This could be the one.”
I rubbed at my eyes, trying to force them to focus, then pulled up my camera. I had to blink a couple of times, but finally zoomed in on the truck’s logo to snap a picture. I did the same for the license plate. I couldn’t make either, out, but the camera could had a low-light function the same as any smartphone, the difference being my camera did it in about a tenth of a second instead of taking 10 seconds.
Everything looked promising as they slowed down when they came up to the docks, but after about thirty seconds, they drove on, going two more streets down before turning a corner.
“Sorry, toots, they don’t always pan out.”
“I’m beginning to think that I should have left the drudgery to you.”
“Yeah, stakeouts are definitely drudgery, but that’s detective work for you.”
“What do you mean ‘Ha’?” I asked.
“Matthew, your detective work has been anything but drudgery for many years. Vampires, a mystical serial killer, succubi, witches, wizards, and mystical artifacts. Hardly drudgery.”
“You have a point, but then you generally are only aware of the terrifying parts. Even in all that there’s legwork and drudgery.”
“But that time should have passed as you’ve already done it.”
“Hate to break it to you, Doll, but even if that truck had stopped at the docks, the drudgery would continue. We don’t know if it’s that truck, or even if there’s only one. And there’s more drudgery after that.”
“I had thought asking a detective to untangle political intrigue would be more . . . urgent.”
“Only in the movies. Got any more coffee?”