"That's jumping to an assumption," Becky said through my comms.
The car idled at the curb, Mercury already behind the wheel, engine purring. I stood outside it, one hand resting on the warm hood, waiting for Melissa.
"Just call her," I said. "She told me his hair was blue."
"Blue hair doesn't make him Nesto."
"Which is exactly why I sent you her number." I turned slightly away from the car. "Go there. Confirm it yourself."
Mercury lowered the driver's window and glanced over at me. Becky kept talking in my ear, circling whatever question she really wanted to ask. The humid breeze slipped through the open window, stirring loose strands of Mercury's hair and carrying the faint, sweet scent of her shampoo.
"Just call her, Becky. Please."
I disconnected and walked around to the passenger side.
"You good?" Mercury asked as I approached.
"Yeah." I opened the door and dropped into the seat. "Why?"
