Read Gone for Good for Free Online

said to me.
    The woman smiled and stepped forward. The man stayed behind her, casually leaning again the wall. "Will Klein?"
    "Yes?" I said.
    She unfurled her ID with a flourish. The man did the same thing. "My name is Claudia Fisher. This is Darryl Wilcox. We're both special agents for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
    "The feds," Squares said to me, thumbs up, like he was impressed I ranked such attention. He squinted at the ID, then at Claudia Fisher. "Hey, how come you cut your hair?"
    Claudia Fisher snapped the ID closed. She arched an eyebrow at Squares. "And you are?"
    "Easily aroused," he said.
    She frowned and slid her eyes back to me. "We'd like a few words with you." Then she added, "Alone."
    Claudia Fisher was short and semi-perky, the dedicated student athlete from high school who was a little too tightly wound the type who had fun but never spontaneously. Her hair was indeed short and feathered back, a bit too late-seventies but it fit. She had small hoop earrings and a strong bird nose.
    We are naturally suspicious of law enforcement here. I have no desire to protect criminals, but I do not want to be a tool in their apprehension either. This place has to be a safe haven. Cooperating with law enforcement would cripple our street cred and really, our street cred is everything. I like to think of us as neutral. Switzerland for the runaways. And of course, my personal history the way the feds have handled my brother's situation does little to endear me to them either.
    "I'd rather he stayed," I said.
    "This has nothing to do with him."
    "Think of him as my attorney."
    Claudia Fisher took Squares in the jeans, the hair, the tattoo. He pulled on imaginary lapels and wriggled his eyebrows.
    I moved to my desk. Squares flopped into the chair in front of it and threw his work boots onto the desktop. They landed with a dusty thud. Fisher and Wilcox remained standing.
    I spread my hands. "What can I do for you, Agent Fisher?"
    "We're looking for one Sheila Rogers."
    That had not been what I expected.
    "Can you tell us where we might find her?"
    "Why are you looking for her?" I asked.
    Claudia Fisher gave me a patronizing smile. "Would you mind just telling us where she is?"
    "Is she in trouble?"
    "Right now" she paused a beat and changed the smile "we'd just like to ask her some questions."
    "What about?"
    "Are you refusing to cooperate with us?"
    "I'm not refusing anything."
    "Then please tell us where we might locate Sheila Rogers."
    "I'd like to know why."
    She looked at Wilcox. Wilcox gave her a very small nod. She turned back to me. "Earlier today, Special Agent Wilcox and I visited Sheila Rogers's place of employment on 18th Street. She was not present. We inquired as to where we might locate her. Her employer informed us that she had called in sick. We checked her last known place of residence. The landlord informed us that she moved out several months ago. Her current residence was listed as yours, Mr. Klein, on 378 West 24th Street. We visited there. Sheila Rogers was not present,"
    Squares pointed at her. "You talk real purdy."
    She ignored him. "We don't want trouble, Mr. Klein."
    "Trouble?" I said.
    "We need to question Sheila Rogers. We need to question her right away. We can do it the easy way. Or, if you choose not to cooperate, we can travel an alternate, though less pleasant, avenue."
    Squares rubbed his hands together. "Ooo, a threat."
    "What's it going to be, Mr. Klein?"
    "I'd like you to leave," I said.
    "How much do you know about Sheila Rogers?"
    This was turning weird. My head started aching. Wilcox reached into his jacket pocket and took out a sheet of paper. He handed it to Claudia Fisher. "Are you aware," Fisher said, "of Ms. Rogers's criminal record?"
    I tried to keep a straight face, but even Squares reacted to that one.
    Fisher started reading from the sheet of paper. "Shoplifting. Prostitution. Possession with intent to sell."
    Squares made a scoffing noise. "Amateur hour."
    "Armed