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Mention: Zeltzin[@Bartimaeus]

Ophrenia walked out the door with Z. The image of a woman flashed in the window right before she left. She frowned. That was interesting. Spooky town and their ghosts. Or maybe it's the mix of humidity and the exhaust from the truck that just passed by. Anything was possible. She thanked Z for holding the door open for her. 

"I'm very good at this. I just don't do well with dudes that mustaches are a few snipes away from looking like Hitler. I'm sure he says the n-word in private and probably committed a hate crime in college." She put her arm around Z's shoulder for a split second, then took it off. It was way too hot and she remembered that Z doesn't seem to like being touched. "But let's put that vexing man out of our heads and move onto plan B. The Black house. We could knock on the door and ask if the old lady will talk to us."

Seemed easy enough. She knew old people would open the door for anyone who knocked. Or in the case of rich old people, have a maid or butler or assistant do it for them. She used to be a door-to-door saleswoman for knives. She knew who to would budge and who wouldn't. Old retired people living on their pension and desperate to talk to anyone would gladly let her through the door. Not when she looks like she does now, but back then it was all uniforms and clean image.

"I promise I'll try harder this time. I doubt we'll run into anyone else that looks like him. Think the local bar will have people willing to point us in the right direction?"