It had seemed to rain constantly for the past day or so. As it was, I sat in my office and watched droplets strike, fall, crawl down the glass. I was glad to be inside with a comfortable chair and a cup of hot instant coffee.

But getting rid of the rain, though it might have improved my mood, would not pay nearly as well as getting an actual job. My rent was taken care of — must have been more thrifty than I'd thought this month — but getting a little ahead, when that's possible, is never a bad idea.

I was just settling in to try and figure out why New Moon was in my to-read pile and Twilight was in my cardboard box of books I'd already read when my door swung open.

I looked up to see a man with dark hair and a well-fitted suit stride across the floor.

"It says you're a wizard on your door," he said, uncertain.

"I am. My name's Harry Dresden, and you are?" I stood, extending my hand.

He shook it. "David Williams."

His eyes were a pale, grassy green. I would hardly have noticed — I try not to look at eyes much — but they really stood out behind dark brown bangs. He had a horseshoe on a string around his neck.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Williams?"

"David, please," he said.

I held out a hand for him to take a seat so I could sit in my own chair behind my desk.

He seated himself, briefly touching a hand to his heart. His face betrayed a slight pain, but it seemed to ease after a moment. Something about his cheekbones looked awfully familiar. Or maybe it was his clean-shaven jawline.

"I'm looking for my son. He's seven years old."

"Pardon my asking, but have you tried the police?" It's what people usually do when their young children are missing. Not many come to me.

"That's the problem." He bit his lip and swallowed audibly, like there was a lump in his throat. "You see, nobody seems to remember that Toby exists. Not even Irene. His mother. My wife."