Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel by Sanchez Orlando A

Author:Sanchez, Orlando A.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bitten Peaches Publishing
Published: 2020-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

“He’s not here?” I asked, looking around, confused. “Since when does Ezra leave this place?”

“I’m certain he must from time to time,” Monty said, glancing behind the counter and raising a hand. “This must be one of those times.”

“To do what? Check out a book from the library?”

“I doubt any of the books he reads would be found in a local library, or any library for that matter,” Monty said as a server approached us. “I’m sure he is powerful enough to materialize any book he needs.”

“True,” I said, “but what would need his actual presence? This feels wrong.”

“This way, please,” the server said. “The Miss will be with you in a second.”

It took my brain a second to process the word that sounded like ‘meese’. Once it did, I realized he meant ‘Miss’. His thick accent, was more at home in Piero’s than Ezra’s. With a gesture, he directed us to a table.

“The Miss?” I muttered to Monty as we followed the server. “Who’s the Miss?”

The server led us through the maze of tables and patrons, with the practiced expertise of flawless navigation, and sat us at Ezra’s table. It felt strange sitting there without Ezra. I was used to seeing him sitting at the table, reading a book and beckoning us to take a seat as he chastised us for not eating enough.

“What would you like?” the server asked as we sat at the table. “The usual?”

“Huh? Yes please, the usual,” I said, still shocked at Ezra’s absence. “Only half a bowl of pastrami for Peaches.”

“This is not the usual,” the server said with a huff. “The boss said to always give the puppy a full bowl”—the server glanced down at Peaches—“half a bowl and he will leave hungry. This is not acceptable. A hungry hellhound is a dangerous hellhound.”

“Excuse me?” I said. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Anton, Mr. Strong.”

He said Anton with emphasis, making the second half of the name sound like ‘tone’ for a full effect of ‘Ahntone’. The French accent clashed with the context of the deli, but this was Ezra’s. Anything was possible.

“Okay, Anton,” I said with the same intonation. “You must be new here, but—”

“No sir, I have been in the employ of this establishment since the Blitzkrieg,” Anton said. “The boss left specific instructions regarding the portions allocated to Monsieur Pêches.”

“What’s a peshis?” I asked, looking at Monty who was doing his best to ignore me. “His name is—”

“Pêches,” Anton answered. “Your companion, excuse me… his name is Peaches.”

I glared at Monty, who was deliberately looking away and suppressing a smile, before turning my attention back to Anton.

“The Blitzkrieg?” I asked. “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Merci,” Anton said with a short bow. “I must insist on a full bowl, along with your pastrami on rye with an egg cream.”

I looked down at my ever-hungry hellhound. He was doing his best puppy eyes and terrifying grin.

<Stop that before you scare everyone out of here.>

<Would that mean more meat for me?>

<No, it would mean we would have to leave without meat.

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