Vendetta Blues by Gary Jonas

Author:Gary Jonas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy
Publisher: Denton & White
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Amanda cleared her throat. “Well, we’ll need all the wits we can get to see you home safely.” She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms out in front of her, popping her knuckles. I noticed she was far less fidgety now that she had access to more magic on a regular basis.

“We’ll also need a computer,” I said. “You got one here, Victor?”

The vampire nodded at me. “The dining room’s been converted to an office.” He pointed back toward the kitchen, where a room off to the side had everything I needed.

“Thanks.” I stood up and Amanda and Victor followed me into the kitchen and then the office. The TV went back on behind us.

“What are you thinking?” Amanda asked.

“That the internet is a wonderful thing, and easier than magic.”

I sat down and booted up the computer. Back when Jonathan – my Jonathan – was alive, a lot of his investigations started with a good old finger dance across the keyboard. When the search engine came up, I typed “missing children Colorado” into the box. It directed me to a site listing eighty-nine kids who’d disappeared over the last few decades. Names, birthdays, and dates gone missing appeared next to thumbnail photographs.

“Good call,” Amanda said over my shoulder. She pulled up a chair. Victor did the same, on my other side.

“Thanks. Hopefully, this goes back to the Sixties. It sounds like the twins disappeared in sixty-seven or sixty-eight.”

The list didn’t look to be in any particular order, either by name or date. I scrolled down, looking for familiar faces. The few black-and-white photos jumped out right away – kids who had been lost longer than I’d been alive. The first was a teen who’d gone missing in 1979. She’d be in her fifties now. I kept scrolling past more smiling faces, more lost souls.

Halfway down the page, I spotted one of the twins. In a black-and-white photograph, Sherry smiled out from under a wide-brimmed hat, her fingers held up in a peace sign. She looked absolutely carefree, as if her whole life would be one long folk song.

“That’s me.”

The three of us startled at Sherry’s voice. Carrie stood next to her, behind us. Jayda was there, too. No Gerry.

I clicked on Sherry’s photo and a page opened with more details – height, weight, race, eye and hair color, and a second photo, this one in color.

“Whoa.” Sherry pointed at the new photo. She looked at her sister who leaned in after her. “Is this what we’re gonna look like?”

The photo was labeled, “Age Progressed” and showed what Sherry – and Carrie – might look like in their sixties. Shorter gray hair, crows-feet, a double chin. Same eyes and smile.

“Trippy.” Carrie put her arm around her sister, whose eyes looked like they might start leaking tears any second. “Hey, now,” she said, giving her sister a squeeze, “we look like hip old birds. Like Nancy Sinatra.”

“That’s not it.” Sherry wiped her eyes. “I’m just thinking about how Mom and Pops must look now.

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