By the time Jake actually got around to seeing the Prophet that day, he was already dangerously close to being late for work. He was equal parts livid and terrified. Sure, the Burning Man killings were tragic, but he hadn't been too terribly close to any of the victims. Other than pleasantries and a few friends in common, he'd had no connection to
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Somehow, despite the fact that he was the one to share a house with her, Jake had been much closer. They were practically family. And Jake didn't have the best history for dealing with loss.
He headed to the Drunk Piano as soon as his last meeting ended. There was a good crowd already, clearly unaware of what was going on in the universe that shared their city. Travis ordered himself a Tom Collins and settled in for Jake's set.
"You seem a little distracted," he said, coming up behind Jake and throwing his free arm around his shoulders.
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"You think?" Jake snorted then sighed, waving a hand at the girl behind the bar. She at least knew what he always drank. "Did you hear? Or read? Or... whatever?"
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"During my lunch. It's all anyone could talk about all afternoon," he explained. Work at his architecture firm all but came to a crashing halt. "Have you seen her yet?"
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When his drink - straight whiskey - was delivered, Jake gave the girl a pale imitation of his usual grin and ignored the odd, confused look she gave him.
"I sent flowers. I'll go out in the morning. It's... Merlin, I don't even know."
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