As soon as the ruckus at The Armadillo had settled down, she’d slipped out the back way and started to track Modal. Not too tough a job for somebody with her range of contacts. Just spread the word, hand out her cel phone number (the number her phone was currently jury-rigged to accept, to be precise), and wait for some response. Questioning a couple of squatters just outside Smeland’s establishment, she’d learned that "the black elf with the big fragging gun" had taken off on a big black BMW Blitzen bike. The same make and model Modal had ridden during the time he and Sly were trying to rekindle their affair. He’d always been a man of habit—a real risk in the biz—and she’d often ragged him about it. Now, of course, she was glad he was a man of unchanging patterns; it made her job so much easier.