Chapter 21
HAMILTON
The now-quiet cottage smelled of feta and olives, half his furniture was in the wrong place, and Hamilton closed his eyes and reveled in the moment. Replaying the last few hours in his mind: everyone talking and bickering and laughing.
He swept crostini crumbs from the couch cushions and moved the furniture back. He washed Lily-Ann’s serving dish, then crossed to the window and watched the courtyard as he sipped a soothing glass of buttermilk.
Nobody was there, not even Sophie or Nicholas, who’d been busily moving her boxes into his cottage—the biggest one on the property.
A pair of Sophie’s boots stood among the succulents, forgotten for the moment.
They looked like rain boots to Hamilton, which didn’t make sense for Santa Barbara.
Maybe they were in fashion, though he wouldn’t know about that.
After he finished tidying the kitchen, he went to his office and opened a window into his game.
Realm of Rangers wasn’t the most popular MMORPG; it wasn’t even in the top ten, but there were still fifty thousand players online at any particular time—and they were as fanatically devoted as any World of Warcraft addict.
And one of them was a local cop with access to the station computers, who was frothing at the mouth to raid the Voidlands.
So Hamilton sent Miles an in-game message: We need information from pb Cyntria. For Mrs. B. Can I offer your healing services on his voidlands raid?
Two hours later, when Ocean allowed him online after homework or chores, Miles responded with, Sure! I’m loaded with mana and ready to reincarnate! Is it true that oil is made of dinosaurs?
Hamilton explained fossil fuels, then Miles sent him links to adoptable cats in the area. Hamilton had mentioned that he was considering adoption and Miles had run with it. The two of them messaged about an orange cat named Gouda and a three-legged cat named Quatro.
Finally, Hamilton chatted with the cop, the “player behind” Cyntria, who was a warrior woman from the frozen desert of the eastern plateaus. He shared Miles’s character stats and the cop messaged: Damn, son. We can take this all the way to the vault.
Perfect, Hamilton said. Next Thursday night, 7 PST?
I’ll tell my team. With a healer in the party, we’re going to kill this.
Hamilton waited an hour, then messaged him, Oh, hey. Did you hear about that Hope Ranch death? Old guy fell down the stairs?
Yeah.
Making a false assertion always elicited more information than asking a question, so Hamilton typed, Have you arrested the wife yet? She’s totally guilty.
Wrong. She’s not even a suspect.
She’s going to inherit $80 million.
She already had access to the money. Joint accounts. No motive.
So he tripped? Boring. Sucks to be a cop in SB. Nothing good ever happens
Unless his housekeeper pushed him. Word is the wife blames her.
Oh! Well, that was interesting. Still, Hamilton decided to leave things there. He’d ask for actual evidence after the cop playing Cyntria started depending on Miles to keep his party alive. Once they entered the Voidlands, there was nothing the guy wouldn’t hand over.