The sidewalk outside Big Rico's was pretty narrow. A stretch of concrete broken up by weed-filled cracks, cigarette maggots, and sand. Miller had the feeling that if he were to come by here again tomorrow, he'd see something different. Parking meters, maybe. Or a new bloodstone circle. Or maybe one of the Erikas would be camped out, enjoying a slice. Either way, he'd be no closer to finding any evidence of where the shadow might have gone.
A gust of pizza oven-hot air rushed out of Big Rico's when the doors opened. Miller inhaled deeply. Hunger stirred in the pit of his stomach. It was two hours since he'd finished his sandwich from Arby's, four since his breakfast. Besides, his brain needed fuel if he was going to piece together what had gone down here.
"Do you have it?" the hostess asked, as soon as he'd set foot inside.
Her name tag was the same, but Miller could've sworn the client had dark hair when she'd come to him at the car lot. Then as now, she'd been in uniform and sporting the tell-tale fragrance of yeasted dough, melted cheese, and pepperoni slices.
"Not yet," he told her, "but I'm working the case."
She nodded gravely and, though there were plenty of tables available, led him to a seat at the counter. Because today, Big Rico's had a counter. And tomorrow, the street outside might have parking meters. And nobody thought that was weird. But Susan-the-hostess had lost her shadow during the recent spat of shadow disappearances and, unlike the rest of Night Vale, she hadn't gotten it back. Now she was convinced someone had stolen it.
Miller scratched his head. Well, there was nothing for it. With no physical evidence, the next step was looking for witnesses. And who better to start with than the person seated beside him? "Hey," Miller said, with not an ounce of timidity. "How's it going?