The phone rings a few times without answer, then Coulter picks up: "Hey, Rob, I'm taking Shae to get some burgers and talk through what happened. Everything all right?"
Having opened her mouth to say something, Teri has the unfortunate luck of getting a fry down the throat when one flies out of the pack. She chokes a bit on it while listening.
"Oakwinkle, Presley and a friend of Sherri's aren't picking up their phones. We think something is wrong. Keep Shae safe, okay?" Robert looks over at Sherri. "Yours was Mark, right?"
"Alternatively, we can keep on to the police station and dump off our friends first." Robert gestures to the still-unconscious tabaxi and dragonborn. "I'd rather not get pulled over with these two in the car."
The phone rings again for a while, then goes again to his poorly-recorded voicemail: "Hello, you have reached the Oakwinkle residence. Please kindly leave your phone number and I shall call you back at my very earliest convenience. Thank you very much." BEEEEP.
Sherri gives a sidelong glance at Fin, as she's eating a burger that, after all, appeared out of thin air for no discernible reason, but the non-answering contacts seems a rather more pressing subject.
"Then perhaps we should drop off these -" she gestures at the 'passengers' "- and then check in on the old elf. What do you think, Teri, Fin?"
"And I hope that burger remains corporeal, sweetie."
When Sherri looks, Fin has practically squeezed the burger out and has gherkins on her top. Seeing the glance, Fin tries to say "Fsrroory.." with a mouth too full of burger bap and makes more mess
Robert nods in agreement. "If it would be easier, I can drop them off and explain what's going on to the Chief Inspector while you folks go out to check on your friends. You can borrow the van - just make sure to bring it back."
"I'll... take that as assent, then," Sherri says. "I'm not the best at driving, but I somehow suspect Fin here doesn't drive, and I'd be surprised if Teri does either. Are those correct assumptions?"
She glances towards the occupants of the backseat.
"It's a ride service - sort of like a taxi, or a paid carriage," Robert explains to Fin, warmly. The station comes into view, and he pulls the van into the first available space. "I won't tell them about the book, by the way - just that we were attacked and we think some other people are involved. I have a feeling the Gesta stays between us."
@Mithical Your last Uber driver pops up as available, as do two more with four-star reviews.
"Well, given that me and Coulter have seen the book, that would be the five of us. I promise we won't spread it around." He smiles. "Private detectives are usually pretty good at keeping secrets."
"Except when said private detectives have spells cast on them, even accidentally," Sherri mutters to herself, remembering the mini-infodump she got that night at the library.
The new Uber driver pings as on their way, with the description of their car's appearance being "look for the blue piece of crap that might fall apart at any moment."
Teri is staying rather quiet, not sure what to do - events are moving fast and she's not skilled in this area at all. Tagging along seems just the ticket.
A very ancient, antique but well-maintained robin-egg-blue Pontiac Firebird rolls up into the parking lot of the police station, and honks twice to indicate they're your Uber.
@Mithical "Stay safe, okay? I'll call you when I've finished with the Inspector." Robert looks over all of you with an odd expression. "Something tells me you folks are getting into something bigger than a small-time detective."
The driver of the Firebird, a spiky-haired man wearing reflective yellow sunglasses, pokes his head out of the window and waves a little impatiently. "C'mon, fellas, this old thing will break apart if she sits too long!"
"I certainly hope to stay safe, darling - after all, Coulter said he'd teach me some illusion tricks, and that didn't quite work out yet." She winks at him and then heads over to the shotgun seat of the blue car.
The Firebird, despite being old, is well-kept on the inside - refurbished white leather seats, a clean interior, smelling like turtle wax and cleaning wash. The man watches you get in with a raised eyebrow, drumming his tattooed fingers on the wheel. "Welcome to the Cool-Mobile, folks. Where are me and the good lady taking you today?"
Fin realises the back of the Firebird is, as nice as it is, not as spacious as the minivan and has to wriggle a little to get her car seat buckle fastened, knocking loose a piece of the salad from what's left of the Big Mac, off of her tunic, in the process
The man seems the tiniest bit annoyed that Fin has brought food into his car, but says nothing as he flips open the glove compartment. You catch a glimpse of a gun inside as he takes out a pair of gloves, pulls them on and shuts it. "Sounds good. Tally-ho!" He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, the Firebird cruising smoothly. "I'm Gaff, by the by."
(i thought she was still carrying the Mac around, my bad :p)
"She's still a fixer-upper. My girlfriend and I restore old cars on the side." He pats the dash fondly with a gloved hand. "I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to 'em."
Sherri nods. "Ah, I see. I make heavy use of gloves, myself, but typically only when paired with a fancy dress. Sometimes a pair of gloves just makes sense."
"It does," he says. "I think it's a fashion statement, you know? Sometimes all these fashion folks are so set in what's cool. And the world's gotta be more open to different things, you know?"
"That sounds very reasonable, darling. In fact, you sound like you'd get along very well with a friend of mine named Amber. She's very vocal about that sort of thing. But everybody wants something "different" until you pull out the teddy bear dress..."
Sherri looks him up and down and starts muttering. "I'd need to broaden the shoulders slightly... perhaps a slightly longer hem... adjust the neckline..."
He turns pink, clearly very excited about what Sherri is implying but trying not to let it on. "You know, if you ever need a model... like, don't tell anyone, but I'd totally kill to model dresses."
"Luckily, dear, I do try to keep all my associates alive so that they can repeat the experience," she says, and then peeks out the window to see where they are.
The car pulls into the library parking lot in the fifth space, and Gaff checks the address and then parks the car, with one last twinkly look at Sherri. "I think this is your stop, fellas. Call me anytime you need a lift, all right? I work part-time at Tudor Nails downtown."
"Oh, I am guessing you don't need me to remind you... I just have some paper and things. Not much." Fin clutches her keepsake hammer, before realising she needs to exit the vehicle
(it's time I think, happy to stop now or carry on?)
