*******************

"So, Ms. Patton, what was…."

"Call me Alice, everyone does."

"Okay, Alice, what first made you think that your boyfriend, uh.." Angel
flipped a few pages of his notebook and came up with a name, "Steve. What
made you think there was something wrong with Steve?"

"Oh, well, about a month ago, he came home with this book and he wouldn’t
let me read it or tell me about it or anything. It’s hidden away somewhere
in the house right now."

"So, he lives here?"

A light blush rose to cover Alice’s cheeks. "I know it’s wrong, but it just
seemed like the thing to do at the time. Everything is so expensive in
L.A."

"I didn’t mean to imply that there was anything wrong with him living here;
I just need information if I’m going to help you. I’m not here to judge."

"This just makes me so nervous. I’ve never met a private detective before,
it must be very exciting! Would you like some lemonade?"

Spike rolled his eyes and snickered when Angel drew in a breath and held
it, obviously trying to remain patient.

"No thank you. Now if we could get back to Steve and the book?"

"Oh yes… anyway, he brought the book home and hid it. Then a few days
later, when I was looking in the closet for some pictures from high school,
because I wasn’t snooping or anything, I really was looking for the
pictures…"

"I’m sure you would never snoop, go on."

"Well, I found this big bag of candles." Alice lowered her voice and
whispered like some people do when they mention a horrible disease,
"Scented ones."

"I see. So this mysterious book and the candles led you to believe…."

"Well, that he’d joined one of cults that are so popular out here!"

"Hmm mmm. Whom does this house belong to?"

"Me. I mean, I rent it."

"Have you lived here in L.A. for long?"

"I’ve been here two years, why? Is that important?"

"Uh.. I’m not sure. So, has Steve done anything else that makes you think
he’s joined a cult? Has he been giving away his possessions? Has he been
giving someone large amounts of money or a steady stream of small amounts?
Talked about a ‘new way of life’? Anything like that?"

"Not that I know of, are you sure you don’t want something to drink?"

"No, I’m fine. Can I see…"

"What about your friend? Are you thirsty, Mr…. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch
your name."

"Spike."

"What an unusual name. Are you thirsty Mr. Spike?"

Catching the warning glance from Angel, Spike just shook his head and bit
his lip to keep from laughing. ((This chit is worse than Cordelia!))

"Ms. Patton.. Alice? Can I see the candles you were talking about?"

"Oh, sure! I’ll be just a minute." Alice jumped up and almost literally
scurried out of the room.

"Angel, what the hell are we doing here? This is nothing more than some
bloke either having an affair or planning an intimate evening, complete
with instruction manual."

"I know, but she asked for help so we are going to treat this seriously."

"What a waste of time! Why don’t you just tell her now?"

"I told you why. She’s a little naïve, but she may be on to something. You
never know."

"A *little* naïve? I wonder if she’s had sex with poor Steve at all!"

"Hush up, she’s coming back."

Alice entered the living room holding a plastic grocery back away from her
body like she would catch something from it. "Here they are. Please be
careful with them, I don’t want him to know I’ve touched them."

Angel took the offered bag and looked inside before holding it back out to
Alice. "They are perfectly ordinary scented candles. Most people use them
to add a nice smell to the room or as a mood setter. I don’t think there’s
anything sinister about them."

Alice nodded her head in a distracted fashion looking down into the bag,
then raised her head and looked back and forth between the two men in
confusion. "Set the mood for what?"

Ignoring the choking sounds coming from Spike’s direction, Angel answered
gently. "For romantic occasions."

Alice blinked in confusion a few times before her face cleared. "Oh, you
mean like dinner. So maybe he’s going to fix me a nice dinner and that book
is a cookbook. Well, that makes sense. I feel so much better now, Mr.
Angel. Thank you for helping me with this. I’ll just go put these back so I
don’t ruin his surprise." She turned and again scurried out of the room.

"Bloody Hell, Angel! You have got to be shitting me! There aren’t people
that innocent anymore! A cookbook?"

"Well obviously there are. We’ll follow up a little on Steve, just to be
sure, but I don’t think he’s up to anything more than working up the nerve
to seduce her. Stand up so that when she comes back in, we can go."

"Gladly, ‘Mr. Angel’. Are you sure you don’t want to stay for lemonade?
Maybe some pie?"

"Funny."

"Oh, Mr. Angel! I can’t thank you enough for clearing this up for me. I’m
just so relieved that I’m not going to have to call one of those
deprogrammer people I saw on the Jerry Springer Show. It seemed like they’d
be awfully expensive. But my Steve would be worth it." Alice went over to
the table and picked up her purse. "How much do I owe you?"

Angel waived his hand. "Nothing. There was nothing to investigate so you
don’t owe me anything. But if I could ask you a question…"

"Yes, anything."

"Were, exactly, did you hear about me?"

"Oh, that’s easy. A woman at the beauty shop had one of your cards that she
got from another friend of hers at some club. I was telling her about the
candles and the book and she thought it sounded like a cult, too. So she
gave me your number. Are you sure you can’t stay? I could make you a
sandwich if you want."

"No, that’s fine. Thank you. We’d better go."

"Oh… yes, well I suppose you have things to do."

"More like *someone* to do." Spike muttered and moved closer to the door.

"Yes, very busy time of year for me. Call me if you have any other
problems, okay?" Angel edged closer to the door himself and actually got
his hand on the knob before Alice found another reason they couldn’t leave
yet.

"Would you like to meet Steve? You know, now that you know he’s not in a
cult? He’s really nice."

"If it were any other time, I’d be happy to, but we have another
appointment in about fifteen minutes, so we * really * have to go." Angel
felt Spike slip between him and the door, pushing him out of the way in his
anxiousness to escape the house. Spike got the door open far enough to slip
out and left Angel to fend for himself.

"Is your friend okay? He looked a little sick." Alice looked over Angel’s
shoulder out the door.

"Uh, yeah, he’s fine. Just has a weak stomach sometimes. Um… hope you enjoy
your dinner with Steve." Angel had finally made it to the porch and turned
his back on Alice, heading for the car. He could see Spike standing near
the car, leaning over as if he really were being sick.

"Maybe he should see a doctor for that."

Angel whirled around to see that Alice had followed behind him to the car.
"Yes, that’s a good idea, I’ll take him right now." Before she could say
anything else, Angel opened the passenger side door, manhandled Spike
inside, slammed the door and ran around to the driver’s side. He’d barely
closed his own door before he was gunning the engine and reversing down the
driveway and onto the street.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Angel smacked the side of Spike’s
head and somehow managed to glare while still keeping his eyes on the road.

"I haven’t laughed this much in.. well, ever." Tears from his silent
laughter rolled down Spike’s cheeks. "You should have seen your face when
she followed you out…. "

"It’s not funny. Although I have to admit, I’d much rather face a big,
slobbering demon than a ‘nice’ woman, any day."

"If I’d known that hanging out with you would be so amusing, I would have
shown up much sooner."

"It’s so gratifying to know my life amuses you."

"Don’t get pissy, Angel. I behaved myself didn’t I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did."

"If we’re not going to be killing things every day at least I can get my
jollies laughing at people, can’t I? What’s up next on the chuckle-fest?"

"I told you about the Phillips case, didn’t I?"

"Probably, but I probably wasn’t listening, so fill me in again."

"Michael Phillips, thirty-two, reported missing by his mother three months
ago. The police looked into it and told the mother that her son just
decided to start a new life somewhere else without telling her where. They
couldn’t find anything to indicate that anything happened to him except
that he packed his clothes and left. The mother thinks something else
happened to him. I’ve been looking for him for a month and I’m starting to
agree with her. There’s something just not right."

"Think he’s dead?"

"No. Too many people have told me they’ve seen him recently. It’s like he’s
hiding from someone or something."

"Vamped?"

"No, he’s been sighted mostly during the day, but that doesn’t mean he’s
not hiding from a vampire or a demon. There were strange withdrawals from
his checking account for several weeks before his disappearance and then he
cleaned out the account the morning he disappeared. His mother said he’d
been going out at odd hours and then sneaking back in just before he had to
get ready for work. At first I though it was a woman he was hiding from his
mother, but his mother insists that she and her son don’t have that kind of
relationship. He’d only moved back in with her six months prior to his
disappeared."

"Why’d he move back in with dear old mum?"

"Same old story, nasty divorce, gave everything to the wife just to be able
to get out quick. But I can’t find any hint that this has anything to do
with that or with his job. His life was pretty mediocre until a few months
ago. Middle class, his father died when he was in college, married his
college sweetheart, no children, middle-management job in paper
manufacturing, the wife finds someone else she likes better and dumps him.
He moves back in with his mother and six months later, he’s disappeared. So
what happened between divorce and disappearance?"

"It has nothing to do with his divorce and nothing to do with his job,
right?"

"As far as I can tell, that’s right."

"Was he going out socializing?"

"His mother said he would go out with friends from work for happy hour but
until she caught him sneaking in that one night she’d had no idea he’d left
the house any other time."

"And you talked to those buddies of his?"

"Yes, they didn’t know anything."

"So if you’re at a dead end, where are we going?"

"I got a look at his bank records and there was a gap in the check numbers.
Sure, it could’ve been one that he made a mistake on and tore up, but it
turns out it wasn’t. Someone cashed that check last week and it was dated
two days before he disappeared. Now why would someone wait three months to
cash a check?"

"Who cashed it?"

"I’m not sure but it was made out to W & H Enterprises, which is not a real
business or at least Cordy couldn’t find any trace of them anywhere, so
it’s probably something illegal or someone’s one-man home business."

"Okay, so where are we going?"

"Are you sure you’re not enjoying this, not even a little bit?"

Spike snorted and waived dismissively. "Of course not. I simply want to
know if I’m going to get to kill anything tonight."

"The night’s still young, so who knows?"

"And we are going ….."

"Little mom and pop store where the check was cashed."

"Oh." Spike sounded very disappointed.

Angel smiled and patted Spike’s leg in sympathy. "Cheer up, maybe the store
will be a front for some evil doings and we’ll find something that needs
killing." The cell phone on the dashboard rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Angel. How’s it going?"

"Fine. Is everything okay, Cordy?"

"Have you seen Wesley today?"

"He was there this morning. Said something about copying books at some
recluses’ house. Why? Didn’t he ever show up at the office?"

"Not that you would have noticed, but no. He hasn’t returned my calls
either. And, remember, he wasn’t home last night, either. Isn’t that kind
of strange, even for him?"

"Yes, it is. After I get finished with what I’m doing, we’ll swing by his
place and see if he’s there or some indication of where he went this
morning. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, he probably just got so
caught up with the old books he forgot the time."

"Okay. Is Spike there?"

"Where else would he be?"

"Let me talk to him."

"Why?"

"Just let me talk to him! Geez, don’t get all jealous."

"I’m not… fine." Angel handed the phone to Spike. "It’s Cordelia, she’s
wants to talk to you."

"About what?" Spike made no move to put the phone to this ear.

"How should I know? Just talk to her."

Spike shrugged and put the phone to his ear. "Hello, pet. Can I do you?"

"What?"

"What can I do for you?" Spike snickered and looked over at Angel who was
trying very hard to pretend that driving was taking all his concentration.

"You haven’t messed up your clothes, have you?"

"No, no one’s ripped them off me… yet. Why?"

"Is that all you think about? Never mind. I was just wondering but that’s
not the reason I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, what is? I don’t have all night, you know."

"Did you see Wesley today?"

"No. Until Angel mentioned it I didn’t even know he’d been at the office."

"You’re not lying are you?"

"Why would I?"

"Spike."

"Okay, I would lie, but I’m not now. Why?"

"I was just making sure you didn’t say something to him and that’s why he’s
not answering his phone. Just covering all the bases. "

"If you’re really worried about him you should probably call Giles."

"Why Giles? He’s not in L.A."

"No, but if it’s about books then Giles would probably know who this bloke
was that Wesley went to see. And then Angel and I could go pay him a visit
and see what the weasel, I mean, Wesley has been up to."

"Wow. Good thinking Spike. I think I will call Giles. I haven’t talked to
him in a while anyway. Tell Angel to call me back later, okay?"

"Okay, pet." Spike ended the call and put the phone back up on the
dashboard.

"We’re almost there, just let me do the talking." Angel turned down a side
street and pulled over to the curb.

"Now what bug have you got up your butt?"

"Nothing."

"No, Angel, it’s something so spit it out. I’m not spending the next few
hours with you being angry at me and I don’t know why."

Angel turned off the ignition and turned on the seat to face Spike.
"Cordelia was right, I wouldn’t have noticed if Wesley was at the office or
not. And now he could be in trouble, all because I was downstairs having
fun with you."

"So you’re mad at me because you were having fun? That makes sense."

"I’m angry with myself, not you."

"No, you’re angry at me because I made you forget your precious penance for
a few hours and you’re angry at yourself because you don’t feel guilty
*enough* about it."

"You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s just go in there and find
out what we can and then go check on Wesley."

Spike caught Angel’s arm before he could get out of the car. "Wesley is a
grown man and not your responsibility. I know he’s your friend even if I
don’t understand why, but you can’t take care of everybody all the time."

Angel pulled his arm out of Spike’s grasp and got out of the car. "I don’t
want to talk about this with you. Let’s just talk to these people and get
it over with."

"Guess the honeymoon’s over." Spike got out of the car and followed after
Angel into the small grocery store.

*************

Thirty minutes later, the two vampires exited the store and got back into
the car. Spike was grinning from ear to ear and Angel was even glummer than
before, if that was possible.

"What is it now, Peaches? We got a description of the guy, didn’t we?"

"Why do you keep insisting that something is wrong with me?"

"You’re just mad because Ms. Depends in there liked me more than you."

"It has to be the pants because it couldn’t have been your charm. But I was
thinking about the fact that Wesley wasn’t home last night and he hasn't
checked in since this morning."

"Yeah, so?"

"He’s been out of touch an awful lot lately."

"You’re not his father, Angel."

"I know. And I know you think I’m being ridiculous but there’s things you
don’t know."

"And won’t know unless you tell me. But you were so hot to go check up on
Wesley, so let’s go. Once you see he’s fine we can go check out this
sleaze."

Angel started the car and pulled away from the curb just as the phone rang.
"Get that, will you?"

Spike let the phone ring once more to irritate Angel and then picked it up
and pushed what he assumed was the correct button. "’ello?"

"Angel? Giles here, Cordelia called asking me questions about Wesley and a
book collector? Is he all right?"

"No, I sucked him dry and left his body to rot in the tunnels."

"Spike? What are you doing in L.A.?"

"Where the bloody hell did you think I’d gone off to, Hawaii?"

A pause and then, "Quite right. Is uh… Angel there?"

"He’s busy brooding right now, oh, and driving. We’re on our way to
Wesley’s to see what the twit has gotten himself into that he can’t answer
the phone or show up at the office."

"You’re… you’re helping Angel?"

"Yes and you would have been able to find that out a week ago if you’d
bothered to call and make sure I made it here okay."

"Yes, well… um.. we’ve been rather busy here… So you don’t know where
Wesley is?"

"Look Watcher, it’s obvious you don’t have anything useful to say, so I’m
just going to hang up now and someone will get back to you, you know, when
we’re ‘not so busy’. Spike disconnected and threw the phone back up onto
the dashboard.

"That wasn’t very nice, Spike."

"Good." Crossing his arms across his chest, Spike glared out his window. "I
thought you said you were going to call them a week ago."

"I didn’t get around to it. Besides, I’m still too annoyed with them to
talk. I’m not surprised that Buffy didn’t say anything, but that Willow or
Giles didn’t bother to call…"

Spike kept his head adverted and raised his eyebrows in surprise. ((So the
goddess Buffy isn’t perfect and neither are the other little humans…))
"They were probably just glad to see me gone."

"I meant that they didn’t tell me you were in trouble in the first place."

Not wanting to read more into Angel’s words than might be there, Spike fell
back on what was familiar. "Are we there yet?"

Angel’s lips twitched but he managed not to smile. "We’re there now. You
stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

"Why do I have to wait here?"

"If Wesley's home, he won't want to see you and if he's not home, you can't
come in anyway. You haven't been invited. Why don't you call Cordelia and
see if Wesley's checked in with her."

"What's the number?"

"It's on speed dial 1."

"And speed dial is…."

"You don't know how to use a phone? I thought you were up on these sorts of
things"

"Hey! *I* can program a VCR, can you?"

"Okay, okay. This is kind of new to me, too." Angel picked up the tiny
phone and pressed the correct buttons. Once it began to ring, he handed it
to Spike, got out of the car and crossed the street to enter Wesley's
apartment building.

"Angel Investigations.. we help..

"Save it. It's me." Spike scrunched down in his seat and put his booted
feet against the dashboard.

"What's wrong, Spike?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you calling? Did you find Wesley?"

"No, we're at his place now. Angel went inside to look around and he told
me to call you to see if Wesley had called you yet."

"And since you always do what Angel says…"

"Up yours. So did he call?"

"No and I'm really getting worried."

"What is the big deal? Doesn't the man have a life of his own?"

"Yes, but after everything that's happened… well, it's kind of a rule that
everyone has to keep in touch so we don't have to worry about each other."

"What's 'everything'?"

"You'll have to ask Angel."

"This is getting bloody annoying! How am I supposed to understand what's
going on if no one will tell me?"

There was a long silence over the line and then a resigned sigh. "I suppose
you should know some of this stuff if you're going to be here long. But
don't you dare tell Angel I told you! Promise me!"

"Fine, I promise. And before you ask, yes, I'm serious. I really won't tell
Angel anything you tell me."

"I don't really trust your word, but I guess it will have to do for now.
First of all, do you remember that guy that was with me when you were here
after that stupid ring?"

"Yeah, I wondered where he was."

"He's dead, which is bad enough, but Angel blames himself..."

"Damn! We'll have to continue this later, Angel's heading back this way.
From the look of him, he didn't find Wesley. Hold on a minute."

Spike waited for Angel to get in the car and held up the phone. "Cordelia
and no, Wesley hasn't checked in with her. What did you find?"

Angel gripped the steering wheel so tightly it groaned under his grip but
he said nothing.

Spike studied Angel's clenched jaw and stormy features and knew the older
man was barely under control. "Cordy, I'll have to call you back." Without
allowing her to answer, Spike disconnected and slowly put the phone back on
the dashboard. Still not making any sudden moves, he carefully removed his
feet from the dashboard and sat up, keeping Angel in his sight the entire
time.

"Tell me Angel."

Angel continued his silent battle for control of his temper for a few more
minutes before removing one hand from the steering wheel and delving into
his coat pocket. He removed several sheets of paper and handed them to
Spike without looking at him.

"What are these? 'Neville Paper Manufacturing'? Isn't this where that
Phillips fellow works?"

"Yes." Angel forced the word past clenched teeth.

"And these were in Wesley's… "

"YES!"

"Okay, I guess you're going to have to spell it out for me here. Why
wouldn't Wesley have these if he's working on the case with you?"

"Because. He. Wasn't. Working. On. The. Case. With. Me. He's gone off on
his own. Probably because he thinks I'm no longer taking care of things
like I should." Angel turned his furious gaze on Spike.

"Oh…." Against his will, Spike flinched under that gaze, now tinged with
yellow. "I… Angel, this isn't my… DAMN IT, ANGEL! THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!"

Angel blinked twice and then turned his head away to stare out the
windshield again. "I know."

"This other paper has a name on it; Walter Harrigan. Says he's a 'resale
specialist', whatever that is, and an address. W.H. Could that be the W and
H Enterprises the check was written to, do you think?" Spike held the
paper, with what he assumed to be Wesley's spidery handwriting on it, at an
angle to read it better under the streetlight. "The address is on the same
street that grocery store was on, I bet it is him."

"Damn, stupid, pig-headed, interfering, …"

"I am not!"

"Not you… Wesley. He should know better to go off by himself this way!"

"Well, he has, so what now? This Harrigan bloke?"

"Yes." Angel started the car and pulled away from the curb. "It's the only
lead we've got right now."
 

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