where a collector of old books would live - but maybe he got his fill of dust, mold, and mildew at work and didn't need it in his home.
I was halfway between my car and the building when I realized that I hadn't brought the book when I got out of the car. I hesitated, but decided to leave it where it was, wrapped in a towel on the backseat of the Rabbit. The towel was to protect the book - in case I hadn't gotten all the grease off my hands - but it worked okay to disguise it from would-be thieves, which seemed unlikely here anyway.
I climbed up two sets of stairs and knocked on the door marked 3B. After a count of ten, I rang the doorbell. Nothing. I rang the doorbell one more time, and the door at 3A opened up.
"He's not there," said a gruff voice.
I turned to see a skinny old man, neatly dressed in old boots, new jeans, a button-down Western shirt, and a bolo tie. All he was missing was a cowboy hat. Something - I think it was the boots - smelled faintly of horse. And fae.
"He isn't?"
Officially, all the fae are out to the public and have been for a long time. But the truth is that the Gray Lords who rule the fae have been very selective about which of them the public gets to know about and which ones might upset the public - or are more useful posing as human. There are, for instance, a few senators who are fae in hiding. There is nothing in the Constitution that makes it illegal for a fae to be a senator, and the Gray Lords want to keep it that way.
This fae was working pretty hard at passing for human; he wouldn't appreciate me pointing out that he wasn't. So I kept my discovery to myself.
There was a twinkle in the faded eyes as he shook his head. "Nope, he hasn't been home all day."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Phin?" The old man laughed, displaying teeth so even and white they looked false. Maybe they were. "Well, now. He spends most of his time at his store. Nights, too, sometimes."
"Was he here last night?" I asked.
He looked at me and grinned. "Nope. Not him. Maybe he bought up some estate's library and is staying at the store while he catalogs it. He does that sometimes." Phin's neighbor glanced up at the sky, judging the time. "He won't answer the door after hours. Closes himself in the basement and can't hear anyone. Best wait and go check at the shop in the morning."
I looked at my watch. I needed to get home and get ready for my date with Adam.
"If you have something for him," the old man said, his eyes clear as the sky, "you can leave it with me."
Fae don't lie. I used to think it wascan't lie, but the book I'd borrowed made it pretty clear that there were other factors involved. Phin's neighbor hadn't said he was working at the store. He said maybe. He didn't say he didn't know where Phin was, either. My instincts were chiming pretty hard, and I had to work to appear casual.
"I'm here to check up on him," I told him, which was the truth. "His phone is off, and I was worried about him." And then I took a chance. "He hasn't mentioned any of his neighbors - are you new?"
He said, "Moved in not long ago," then changed the subject. "Maybe he left the charger at home. Did you try the store phone?"
"I only have one number for him," I told him. "I think that was his cell."
"If you leave your name, I'll tell him you stopped in."
I let my friendly smile widen. "No worries. I'll run him down myself. Good to know he has neighbors who are watching over him." I didn't thank him - thanking a fae implies that you feel indebted, and being indebted to a fae is a very bad thing. I just gave him a cheerful wave from the bottom of the stairs.
He didn't try to stop me, but he watched me all the way out to my car. I drove out of sight before pulling over and calling Tad.
"Hello," his voice said. "This is my answering machine. Maybe I'm studying; maybe I'm out having a good time. Leave your name and number, and maybe I'll call you back."