"But not today, thank God," Connor said sourly. "You're more manic than usual today, Sean, and that's really saying something."
"Give me a break. I just pulled an all-nighter in the stews of Seattle," Sean said. "I'm flying on caffeine and nerves."
"Did you meet anybody who knows Billy Vega?" Davy demanded.
"Oh, I did better than that," Sean said. "I met Miles." He knocked on the passenger door of a mud-spattered silver Jeep Cherokee. "Yo, Miles," he called. "Stop being a dweeb. Get out here and be sociable."
The Jeep door opened. A long, lanky figure slithered out and unfolded itself. Even hunched over like a vulture he was impossibly tall, thin and pallid, with long, snarled black hair and round glasses perched on his hooked nose. He was dressed in a dusty black Goth frock coat.
He lifted his shoulders, let them drop back down. "Hey."
Sean winked at Erin. "Miles doesn't get out much. He's been hiding in the basement for a little too long, but he's a great guy. Miles, let me introduce you to my brother Davy, my brother Connor, and his girlfriend, Erin. Who also happens to be Cindy's big sister."
Miles's dark eyes lit up. "Really? Cool. You're, like, almost as hot as Cindy." He realized what he'd just said, and his eyes froze open behind the magnifying lenses of his glasses. "Uh, that is, I didn't mean—"
"Thank you, Miles," she said gently. She held out her hand. "How sweet of you to say so."
He blinked rapidly as he shook it, as if unused to the light of day. Erin looked up at the three brothers. Meaningful glances and telepathic messages whizzed over her head. She turned back to Miles, who looked at least as bewildered as she felt. "Would somebody please explain to me what you gentlemen have been up to?"
"Let's get a booth," Sean said. "I was just in there, doing recon. It's perfect. There's a pissed-off waitress with big hair, and a tray full of surreal jelly doughnuts. And the coffee is a sure thing. Instant ulcer."
Erin looked around in trepidation as they filed in. "I should've brought my own cup," she murmured, sliding into the booth.
"Nah," Sean scoffed. "Get into it. The risk of food poisoning is part of the thrill."
Connor slid into the booth next to her, draping a possessive arm over her shoulders. The waitress flung menus onto the table, sloshed coffee into their cups, and flounced away without a backward glance.
"Excuse me, miss?" Sean called after her. "Doughnuts for everyone, please."
The waitress scowled back over her shoulder. Sean dimpled at her. She stopped, turned, did a double take, and smiled back at him.
"OK," Connor said. "So let's have it. What did you find out?"
"Well, I investigated the babe lair, and Lord, is that house ever pulsing with feminine pulchritude," Sean said. "They didn't have much hard info for me, but the blonde with the red thong undies suggested—"
"How did you know she had red thong undies?" Erin demanded.
Sean fluttered his lashes innocently over the rim of his cup. "Because she was wearing skin-tight white palazzo pants," he explained. "As I was saying, she suggested that I talk to the Vicious Rumors, Cindy's R&B band. She even tracked down their phone numbers for me, that sweet, helpful curry-haired cutie. What's her name again, Miles?"
"Victoria."
"Victoria. Yeah. Yum. Then there was the redhead with the eyebrow ring and the see-through black blouse. She was the one who—"
"See-through blouse? She came to the door in a see-through blouse, at Endicott Falls Christian College?" Erin was scandalized.
"Oh, she wasn't wearing the blouse when I arrived," Sean hastened to assure her. "She went upstairs and changed into it after I got there. Nice bra, too. I know it well. Victoria's Secret, spring collection. Black satin push-up demi bra. A good choice for the blouse."
Connor sighed. "You animal."
"Ignore him," Davy advised her. "He's just trying to impress you."
But Erin was already stifling helpless giggles, with both hands over her mouth. "Oh, God. I sent a wolf to a house full of lambs."
Sean snorted. "Lambs, my ass. Foxes is more like it. Don't worry, they're too young for me, but that's no reason not to ogle their underwear, now is it? But I stray from the point—"
"I'll say," Connor said.
"See-through blouse—what was her name?" Sean turned to Miles, snapping his fingers.
"Caitlin," Miles supplied.
"Caitlin, yeah. She told me about Miles, and the Rumors lead guitarist found his parents' address for me. And when I breached the basement fortress and saw Miles's screen saver, I knew he was my man."
"What screen saver?" Erin asked.
"A four-second video clip of Cindy, blowing a kiss. Over and over," Sean said. "It took my breath away."
Miles hunched down between his hulking shoulders. "Jeez. Don't tell people that stuff," he mumbled. "It's private."
"You tell him, Miles," Connor said.
Davy grunted. "He never listens, though, so what's the point?"
"Hey, we're all in this together," Sean protested. "Besides, my brother's not as high-tech as you, Miles, but he knows all about wanting an unattainable girl—"
"Shut up, Sean," Connor said wearily. "You're pissing me off today. I know you're fried, but one more crack like that—"
"OK. I'll focus. Chill out, Con," Sean soothed. "In any case, Miles was my big break. When we find your sister, she owes him a debt of passionate gratitude. You can tell her that I said so."
"I'll think about it," Erin said demurely. "Go on, please."
"Miles is the sound man for the Vicious Rumors, and Cindy's faithful admirer. You ever want to know what's going on with a girl? Ask a jealous man," Sean said. "Miles even provided me with the license number of the infamous Jag, which I passed promptly on to Davy."
Connor and Erin both turned to Davy. "And?"
"The car belongs to a guy named William Vaughn," Davy said. "A thieving, pimping dickhead with a rap sheet this long, which you may peruse"—he passed them a manila folder—"at your leisure. I checked out all the addresses I could find, but they're out of date. One of his ex-landladies told me she hasn't seen him in two years, and she hopes to God she never sees him again, even though he owes her money."
"I knew he was scum. From the start I knew it. I slashed the fucker's tires once." Miles's eyes flashed with vindictive heat. He hesitated, and shot a nervous look at Erin. "Uh, shit. Sorry."
"It's OK, Miles," she told him. "I'm glad you slashed his tires."
He hung his head bashfully and started ripping his napkin to shreds.
"Are you in Cindy's class?" she asked him.
"No, I graduated last year," Miles said. "Electronic engineering. I've just been hanging around to do sound for the Rumors, and…"
"And Cindy," Sean said.
Miles stared morosely into his coffee. There was an awkward silence, broken by the waitress, who eyed Sean hungrily as she flung a plate full of lurid-looking pastries into the middle of the table.
Sean seized a jelly doughnut, saluted the waitress with it, and took a huge bite. "Miles insisted on coming along, once I told him my strategy. He's got that hero mentality, just like you, Con."
Connor looked up from leafing through the rap sheet, smiled thinly, and jerked his chin for Sean to continue.
"So we took off on an all-night odyssey of squalid road-house dives, fueled by Miles's trusty flask of super-caffeinated Jolt Cola. We finally hit pay dirt when we got to the Rock Bottom Roadhouse, where we met LuAnn. Ah, the beautiful, strawberry blonde LuAnn."
"She's not as hot as Cindy," Miles said.
"Do we want to hear this, Sean?" Connor asked.
"Trust me, there's a thru-line. Turns out that LuAnn the barmaid knows Billy Vega by reputation. She used to dance in a club near Lynnwood. She told us that Billy comes across as a big-shot agent, but she knows girls who were recruited by him who spit on the ground at the mention of his name. So Miles and I abandoned the roadhouses and ventured out bravely into the wild world of the Seattle titty bars."