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His tent-sized Hawaiian shirt was buttoned up wrong, and he wore no shoes or socks. She held back a slight grin. Maybe she’d interrupted something. “Yeah, right. Back up, Max.”
He held up his hands and backed away from the door. She checked left and right before entering. Max was the only human in the room.
But he wasn’t alone.
She glanced up. The office ceiling was a good fifteen feet high and made entirely of glass. Vines twisted their way across a network of wires, and flowers hung in chains, dripping pink and red petals to the floor. Budgerigars flittered through the greenery, bright splashes of yellow and blue. One of them was a shapechanger, but the birds moved too fast to define which one.
“They have to be hell on the furniture,” she commented. “Why the sudden fixation on budgies?”
Max shrugged. It sent ripples running across his flesh, like waves in an ocean. “They amuse me. Besides, I have plenty of money to spend.”
She kicked the door shut and leaned back against it. “Then why not try weight reduction surgery? You might live longer.”
His answering smile was gentle. “They won’t operate. They say I’m too large.”
“So sue them.”
“I am.” He moved around the desk and squeezed his frame into a chair the size of a two-seater sofa. “Now, I’m presuming you did not come here to discuss my weight…”
“No. But first, where’s Morris?” Max’s ape-sized bodyguard was rarely more than two feet from his side.
“I sent him for a walk.”
Wanted a little privacy with his budgie friend, no doubt. Though from what she’d heard, he normally didn’t mind having an audience. “Tell me about Harry Maxwell.”
Max returned her gaze evenly. No surprise there, though. When he wanted to, he could act with the best of them.
“I haven’t seen him in over a week.”
“When was the last time you did see him, then?”
“Last Thursday.”
“And did you sell him any Jadrone?”
“No.” A bead of sweat formed on his forehead.
“If you didn’t sell him Jadrone, what did you sell him?”
The bead rolled down his cheek. Max swatted at it heavily. “I don’t—”
“Do drugs, illegal or otherwise,” she finished for him. “Yeah, I’ve heard the song before. Just tell me the truth.”
He shifted in his chair, and metal groaned in the brief silence. “I didn’t sell him anything. Honest.”
“Then his abstinence must be putting a strain on your finances. He was one of your best customers, wasn’t he?”
Max made no comment, just stared at her somewhat sullenly.
“Have you tried to find out where he is?”
Fingernails, almost lost in the envelope of flesh hanging over them, began to beat a rhythm against the desk. Nerves rather than anger.
“Yes.”
“And?”
His hand edged toward the left side of the desk. “He said he didn’t need me no more.”
