Prologue 1

The city was cloaked in darkness. A cloak it wore to hide the pain.
I felt like I was wearing that cloak too, standing in a shadow, staring out the window, watching the rain fall against the glass.
"It's like the sky is weeping for the city," I said aloud.
Ariadne shook her head and said, "you always get maudlin when it rains."
I came back to my desk and sat down in the pool of light spread by the two desk lamps. I stared across at my partner. Our desks were arranged in the middle of the room, facing each other, as they had been when we worked on the force.
She looked up from her reading and saw what I was thinking, a skill she had developed early in our partnership.
"That last job was a rough case, I agree, but we had to do it. My mortgage was due and yours had been past due for weeks."
She sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as if that would stem the flow of images.
"Child pornography is sickening regardless of where you find it, but that couple were particularly foul," she continued. "But it's done. You've got to return to your own life. You may not think so, but I think you've got lots to live for."
I gave a short laugh. "You think I'm suicidal?"
She smiled back at me. It was her honey smile, sweet and direct and persuasive. "I think you don't appreciate your own life. I hate to repeat myself, but you have got to learn to separate yourself from your work."
She returned to her reading and I stared across the desk at her, knowing she wasn't finished. The silence lengthened, like someone laying down empty shot glasses.
Finally she said, without looking up, "And I think you have a flair for the dramatic."

My name is Mike Pierce. I'm an ex-cop. I wouldn't have acquired that prefix except that I was given a choice by Internal Affairs: resign or be indicted for "police brutality." That's a laugh. I twist a few arms and all of the sudden it's "brutality." Ariadne had left just a few years before to have a couple kids. I tried being a lone P.I. for a while, but all I got were people wanting me to spy on their spouses. Ariadne brought a little respectability to the business, so I put her name on the door. Pierce and Cover. Like Attack and Defense. We make a good team. She's the thorough one, I've got the imagination.
Right now neither virtue was being used for much. We didn't have any cases on the books so we were killing time by reading up on the latest investigation techniques. DNA ID is all the rage, but it has its weaknesses.
I was about to ask for the fortieth time if any of the defense attorneys we usually do business with had called, but I was interrupted -- by a client, I hoped. Almost none of our work comes from walk-ins, but it's been known to happen.
She was tall and blonde, with legs like the Mona Lisa, or at least the legs I always imagined Mona Lisa would have. She was a little heavy handed with the makeup, but some guys dig the blood-red painted-on lips and calligrapher's eyeliner. I think it's a little too much of a good thing.
"I need you to find someone for me," she said in a throaty voice.
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