The Trojan Colt by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online

particular wagon), and entered the store.
    It was almost empty, just a couple of old ladies arguing with the pharmacist that generics shouldn’t cost more than a dollar apiece, and I walked around until I saw a pretty young blonde, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, straightening some shelves.
    â€œGood afternoon,” I said, approaching her.
    She flashed me an insincere smile and went back to what she was doing.
    â€œI wonder if you can help me,” I continued. “I’m looking for a young lady named Nan.”
    She stared at me but said nothing.
    I pulled out my detective’s license—most people can’t tell it from a badge—and said, “I just want to talk to her. No laws have been broken and no arrests will be made.”
    â€œI’m Nan,” she said, “Nanette, actually.”
    I figured it was probably Nancy and that she decided Nanette sounded classier. Made no difference to me, so I didn’t comment on it.
    â€œHi, Nan,” I said. “My name is Eli Paxton. I’m a private detective—”
    â€œI’ve never seen one before, except on television,” she replied. “Do you carry a gun?”
    â€œRarely and carefully,” I answered.
    â€œWhat do you want from me?” she asked, suddenly apprehensive.
    â€œJust some information about a young man named Tony Sanders.”
    â€œOh, my God!” she gasped. “What did he do?”
    â€œDisappeared.”
    She frowned. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI mean that last night he was guarding this colt that was up for sale today, and this morning he was missing and no one can find him.”
    â€œAnd you think I’m hiding him?”
    I shrugged. “What would you be hiding him from?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œHave you any idea why he might have walked away from his job on what figured to be both its most important and its final day?”
    She shook her head.
    â€œHas he mentioned anything to you, anything that might be troubling him?”
    She shook her head again. “He was very happy. We were going out tomorrow night.” She frowned again. “It better not be another girl!”
    â€œI doubt it,” I said. “I spoke to him last night and he seemed very disturbed about something. Do you have any idea what it might have been?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHas he ever mentioned a desire to see other places?” I continued. “Maybe California, maybe, I don’t know, Miami?”
    â€œTony?” she said incredulously. “I don’t think he’s ever been thirty miles from here. Whenever we’ve talked about getting married and going on a honeymoon, the farthest he would even consider is Mammoth Cave.”
    I pulled a card out of my wallet, then realized that I was a hundred miles from the phone, and scribbled the Hyatt’s number on the back of it, then handed it to her.
    â€œIf you should hear from him, call this number and leave a message for Ben Miller. He’ll see to it that I get it.”
    â€œWhy don’t I just call you on your cell phone?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s broken,” I lied. “And I haven’t had a chance to pick up a new one.”
    â€œYou could buy one right here,” she said. “We’re running a sale.”
    â€œMy company’s picking one up for me,” I said, which was easier than explaining that I refused to own a cell phone or even learn how they worked.
    â€œWell, when you get a number, call here and leave it for me.”
    â€œWill do,” I said.
    â€œDamn, I hope he’s all right.”
    â€œHe’s probably fine,” I said. “Young men just tend to get restless.” It didn’t sound all that reasonable even to me, and I could tell she wasn’t buying it. “I’ll keep in touch,” I promised her and headed out the door.
    I tried the other three friends on the list. Two were out, and the third had