I gave him my number. A second later, my phone vibrated. A text from an unknown number.
"That's me," Rook said.
I saved his contact and texted him the picture of Mirabelle. "That's the best one I have."
His phone vibrated. He looked at it. Saved the picture.
"Got it," he said. "If I see her anywhere, I'll let you know."
"Thanks, man. I appreciate it."
"No problem. What's she look like now? Same as the picture?"
"I'm not sure. She could have changed her appearance. Trying to hide, maybe. But the basics should be the same."
"How tall is she?"
"About five six. Thin. Brown eyes. She's got a scar on her left hand from when she was a kid. Fell off a bike or something."
Rook nodded. Memorizing the details.
"She's probably working somewhere," I said. "Waitressing, maybe. Or retail. She
