Straightening the nameplate that sat on the front of her desk. It read ‘Ms. Pettigrove’ in bold black letters engraved in cursive on a faux gold slab. Having just made a fresh mug of coffee, she now sat nervously awaiting a call. She had some news that would make her employer satisfied with her work. This would be the first time she’d spoken to him directly. All communication previously had been with one of his associates, Mr. Singed. However, the man who paid her the money had been less than enthused with her inability to locate his daughter. He decided that he would call her, himself. Singed had warned her not to treat his call lightly, so she’d been sitting and waiting to receive it, ignoring all else.
Ms. Pettigrove worked in a specialized field—she located missing paranormal. She had started out many moons ago when she worked for the FBI, dealing with humans committing a range of crimes. Most times fueled by one of two things, either drugs or alcohol, sometimes if she was really unfortunate, it would be both. When a case came across her desk that involved a wolf shifter who needed to be kept out of the public eye and off the grid, she saw an opportunity to forge her own business. I See You or I.S.Y. was born from a need to do more with her life. She had located this wolf and delivered him to his elders for them to deal with on a closed sanctum. When she had woken the next day, her answering machine had twelve messages waiting for her. Word had spread very quickly about her unique ability to locate, deliver, and keep silent with paranormal cases. Everything from missing relatives that had vanished on purpose, to murderers that needed to be brought to justice that suited their species.
Pettigrove had a perfect score when it came to criminals. They always left trails and being an owl shifter, there was nothing that got missed by her exceptional sensory receptors. The fact she worked mostly at night never caused questions with the humans. A lot of FBI trackers worked best under the cover of darkness.
People who wanted to vanish were a lot harder to find. When a paranormal didn’t want to be found, they knew exactly what to do to cover their trails. It was a matter of looking for what wasn’t there, not what was. Sometimes what was missing was the exact piece you needed to find them.
Pettigrove had been looking for this missing person for a few years. She was the daughter of a very powerful man. But obviously she didn’t want to be found… until now that was. Pettigrove never felt guilty about finding those who strived for invisibility. She had bills to pay, and what happened after delivery was none of her business. She was paid exuberant amounts for her silence.
Her cell buzzed with an incoming call. Taking a breath and settling back into her comfortable chair she answered, “Good evening, Q.”
“You have news for me?” his reply came with no emotional attachment. He cared not for the feelings of the people involved, he simply wanted to know where his daughter was.
Pettigrove had dealt with power-hungry men before, but there was something about this one. He had a disturbing energy level. Dangerous. She could easily see him killing someone with a smile on his face. If it hadn’t been for the millions of dollars waved in her face, she wouldn’t deal with him. Pettigrove had met some truly evil people in her occupation, both human and not, but Q? He was a level all to himself.
“I have, she’s in Japan. Tokyo specifically,” Pettigrove said with confidence. “I have confirmed sightings and am presently packing my bags to retrieve her for you.”
“Japan?” She could hear the interest that drove in Q’s head before he continued, “I have a sudden interest in Tokyo myself.”
“You do?” Pettigrove said surprised. She waited in silence for a reply, the only indication that the line was still connected was the shuffling sound of papers.
“Correct,” Q suddenly replied. “It has only just popped up. I’m looking to make a trip there shortly. I don’t know if it’s something I necessarily want my daughter involved in, though.” Silence again as the paper shuffled again. “You will bring her here. Correct?”
“If that’s what you—” she started to say.
“It is,” Q interrupted. “I expect to see you without any further delays.”
Pettigrove held the cell as it went dead in her hands. Lifting her eyebrows, she chirped, “Thank you so much. You’ve been so helpful. I couldn’t do it without you,” she mocked a faux reply from Q, as she raised her middle finger to the phone she held in her other hand. “Fuck you, too, Q.”
Rolling her shoulders to release the stress he caused her, she pressed number 1 on her cell.
“Castaway Travel… how can I make your dreams come true?” a female voice answered with a level of happiness that Pettigrove felt should be illegal to humankind.
“Return ticket to Tokyo. Leaving immediately,” Pettigrove flatly stated. She wasn’t about to match the chirpy bullshit this female was selling. She just wanted to book the fucking ticket and go pack.