It’s late by the time we drive to Manhattan. Once there, Suds makes me crazy, pacing Slate’s office. “Can we see Dahlyla’s browsing history from when she was incarcerated?”
Our boss scowls at his computer screen, no doubt trying to frighten the electronics into submission. “Andy subpoenaed her records but there’s been no sign of them yet.”
In his tenth lap, and yes, I’m counting, Suds turns at the window and stomps back. “Dammit, we need to know what skills she acquired in jail. What’s taking so long?”
Done watching the two men grumble, I dial the AI application and when the avatar pops up on my screen, I ask loud enough for them to hear. “Hey Jason, has Dahlyla Stevenson ever studied electronics?”
“Give me a moment.” The virtual man blinks while he hums out the theme of Jeopardy. “Da dum dum dum, da dum dum…”
I picture his creator, Jenna Jones, laughing as she programmed his musical repertoire, then shudder. The movieI, Robot, comes to mind. As much as I need Jason, sometimes it gives me the creeps.
He shoots me an eerie smile, as if we were best buds. “I have completed my search. Sam. Here is what I found. Ms. Stevenson accessed three hundred and fifty-one different websites referencing vacuum tubes, amplifiers, electricity, and electronics. There were six hundred and twenty-one mentioning electrocution.”
“Holy shit.” I give Suds a high five. “That’s enough to share with the DA, no?”
Before he can reply, Jason barges in. “Does your culture attach religious significance to excrement?”
I don’t think to ask why he didn’t just research it himself.
“Holy shit is an expression of shock or surprise.”
The Avatar grins. “Thank you. I will add it to my database. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Done parading, Suds chuckles and stares out the window. “Only if you can tell us where to find Dahlyla Stevenson.”
“I cannot.”
“Is this her?” I text Jason a picture of the female roadie.
The AI app creates a three dimensional head with a blank face and spins it in a circle on my screen. “I do not know if this image is the woman you are looking for. However, it is fifty percent possible. Is there something else you need?”
Frustrated, I pick up my phone, ready to hang up on the app. “No thank you. Keep searching and if you find her, let us know.”
“I will inform you but do not hold your breath. You could die. Goodbye.”
A humorous AI unit? I need to straighten out Dr. Jones.
Slate, unaware of the AI unit’s new talent, calls Andy. “Jason has evidence Dahlyla studied electronics but she’s vanished. Yeah… I know… On it.”
Brows in a deep crease, he turns to Suds. “Without her, Sienna’s defense is pretty slim.”
My partner checks the time. “Don’t worry. We made a lot of progress. Tomorrow, for sure, we’ll find her. Say hi to Lilac for us.”
“Will do.”
Downstairs, I jog to keep up with my man’s long strides. “I didn’t know Slate has a girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? Hell, no. He’s married. I never told you?”
“No, I just assumed he was a confirmed bachelor. I mean the guy doesn’t even say hello or goodbye.”
“Guess she don’t mind none. Some women don’t see the need for a whole lot of chit-chat.” Little lines at the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tries to keep a straight face.
“You saying I do?”
“I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”
He pays the garage attendant, helps me into the SUV, and we mull over the case way past midnight. In the morning, my alarm goes off, and I groan.
