“It’s a hard job, but I love it,” Banks replied. “It’s like your job, never dull.”

“You can say that again,” the detective chuckled. “Never dull. Just bordering on madness.”

“That’s the nature of the game. Thanks for your time.”

“Sure thing. Anytime.”

Banks went out the door, gnawing on the old man’s disappearance. He wondered if the boy on drugs knew more about Reed’s disappearance than he’d let on. He also wondered if the boy might have had a motive for killing the old man. It was something he needed to check into.

His phone rang. He pulled it out of the holder on his belt and activated it. “Banks,” he said.

“Hi! You free for supper?” came a pleasant female voice.

He chuckled. “I guess so. I don’t really feel like cooking. Where?”

“I’m at Pete’s Barbeque.”

“My favorite place!”

“Mine, too! I’m tired of quick takeout,” she added. “We had a full day at the clinic. Lots of emergencies.”

“Mustn’t let all those sick pooches and cats go without treatment,” he agreed.

“Absolutely. See you in a few.”

He hung up. His sister, Brenda, worked for a local veterinary practice. She loved animals. Banks was fond of cats, but he didn’t like dogs. Brenda had kept one at her apartment until she moved. The new apartment didn’t allow pets. It had broken her heart to give up her sheltie. She did find it a new home, though.

He had a pet of his own, a fluffy red Maine coon cat. His pet was huge, weighing over sixteen pounds. If he had to go out of town, Miss Kitty boarded at the veterinary hospital where Brenda worked.

His sister was in her early twenties, vivacious and cute, with short dark hair and dark brown eyes. The tips of her hair were emerald green. He made a face at that, and the small dragon tattoo on her forearm. She also liked to wear short skirts that showed off her long legs. But not at work, where she wore thick jeans and sweatshirts. Claws hurt.

“Nice tattoo,” he murmured. “Not to mention the green hair.” He rolled his eyes.

“I move with the times,” she teased as they sat eating barbeque sandwiches and homemade French fries. “I fit right in at my office.”

“The day you see me sporting a tattoo and green hair, you can commit me.”

She grinned and finished her sandwich. “Have you heard the news?”

“What news?” he asked.

“Grace is coming to San Antonio for some training sessions with that missionary society she works for. Look out!” she added when his coffee cup tilted at a sharp angle. She picked up napkins and pushed them under the dripping mug.

“Grace is coming here?” he asked in a husky tone. “How do you know?”