"It's Scarlett," I said. "I'll take the case."
"Thank you." Gemma's voice was small. Relieved.
"Thank me after I've done something, kid," I said, and hung up.
I put my umbrella in my backpack and gave my Goodwill jeans, white T-shirt, and secondhand men's houndstooth coat a once-over. If I smiled nice and behaved, the outfit would do for a visit to the Archers'.
I didn't look like a private detective.
I didn't look like an orphan.
And that was just the way I liked it.