“Your name means nothing to me,” he answered, not bothering to shake.
“Yours isn’t all that impressive either, buddy,” I shot back.
Thyne’s eyes grew. He sniffed loudly and began to walk away.
“Wait! Hold on.” I dodged a visitor and skidded in front to cut the good doctor off. “I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing my pride. “Let me start again. My name is Sebastian Snow, and I’m looking into the disappearance of Dr. Newell. I believe he works for you?”
“Let me see your badge.”
“Well… I’m not a cop.”
“Then how are you investigatinganything?”
I hesitated, but that split second of silence gave Thyne the opportunity to move around me and continue walking. “Sonofa—” I darted to the side and blocked him for a second time.
“I am not looking to have a dance with you. Move aside. I am a very busy man.” Thyne looked over his shoulder. “Ms. Gould, I hope next time you’ll fully consider the definition ofemergency. Perhaps you need a copy of Merriam-Webster?”
“Dr. Gould,” she timidly reminded him.
Thyne snorted. “We’ll see.”
Oh, good. A bully. I knew how to deal with those sorts. I snapped my fingers at Thyne. “Hey. Have you been interviewed by the NYPD?”
Thyne startled and looked at me. “Did yousnapat me, Mr. Snow?”
“Was it Detective Winter?” I continued without pause. “Red hair and freckles?” I raised my hand up over my head. “About this tall?”
Thyne’s expression, once an impassible wall, began to show cracks. “How do you know that?”
I quickly took my cell phone from my pocket. I opened the photos folder and chose a picture after a moment of consideration. I turned the screen toward Thyne. Gould craned her neck to look over his supervisor’s shoulder at the image—a selfie of Calvin sitting comfortably across the length of the couch and me between his legs, leaning back against his chest. I’d caught Calvin midlaugh, so he was a bit blurry. I wasn’t much of a photographer, even with a phone that’d cost a grand and boasted having a state-of-the-art camera. But still. Unadulterated joy on Calvin’s face was a picture to be cherished.
“Here. This is Detective Winter, do you agree?”
“Yes,” Thyne said, drawing the single word out.
“He’s my fiancé and has been investigating the murder involving your coworker.” I lowered the phone.
Thyne took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. He looked around us, watching the crowd move like the coming and going of ocean waves. “I fail to understand what I have to do with this.”
“I need to ask you some questions. It’ll take ten minutes.”
“Mr. Snow—” he began, the frustration returning.
“My fiancé has disappeared,” I said, voice catching, despite trying so hard to keep it together. “Like Frank. And I’m afraid something very bad might have happened to your colleague. Detective Winter is a good man. And I don’t have much time.”
Gould’s mouth formed an O, and she put a hand to her chest.
The stiff line of Thyne’s shoulders eased a little, and for one second, I thought the terrible lizard might have been warm-blooded after all. “If a police officer has gone missing—”
“He was kidnapped,” I corrected.
“The NYPD must intervene immediately.”
“They are.”
“Then why are you getting in their way?” Thyne shot back.
I glared behind my sunglasses. “I told you why. He’s my—”
