at his bad joke then at me for keeping a straight face.
“You mind if I ask your employees a few questions?”
“Do it quick,” he said. “I’m not trying to roadblock you here. Go take two or three minutes, total, but no protracted interviews. Can’t have them sloughing off, right? I don’t pay the fuzzy-brains to speculate on tropical comings and goings.”
“Any particular one be a better choice than the others?”
He shook his head, sneaked in a neck swivel. I finally realized it was a nervous tic. I could tell he was hedging.
“I challenge you, try to find a lick of sense out there on the floor. On second thought, Rutledge, you want to chat up my help, make appointments for when they’re off the clock. Don’t pester them while they’re working. I got no say in their private lives. But I’m not running a singles bar.”
Cecil Colding wanted me out of the hen house.
I exited, closed the door, and softly said, “Holy shit.”
“Maybe unholy,” said Honey Weiss. “Welcome to Colding’s.”
“You’re making sandwiches for the evening rush?”
“No, for a boatload of night fishermen,” she said. “Are you a rep? What are you trying to sell Cecil?”
“I’m a friend of Sally’s dad. We’re worried about her.”
Honey nodded, tried to smile but looked grim instead. She looked over my shoulder. The shelf-stocker had walked up behind me. This one was Mikey. I had found her without trying. Her gray knit T-shirt read BIG PINK SOUTH BEACH . She looked about the same age as Alyssa but kept a reserved, quiet expression. She looked at Honey Weiss, as if for guidance or to urge her to say something.
I dug into my wallet but found only one business card. All it had was my name, the PO Box and my email address. Honey handed me a ballpoint pen. I almost wrote my phone number. A picture flashed in my head of a government snoop wearing earphones in a dark room listening to one of these young women, putting her name on a watch list. I wrote Carmen’s number.
“Cecil asked me to hurry out of here,” I said, “and I don’t want to cause you problems. If you can help at all, leave me a message at this number, please. I’ll meet you anywhere, you name it.”
“Cool,” said Mikey. “Rob’s Island Grill. Or Square Grouper.”
“Why there?” said Alyssa. “We can do a big lunch at Mangrove Mama’s.”
Alyssa wore a braided string necklace with a seashell dangling from it. Her ponytail was clumped into a bun, held by a green rubber band. She looked stuck in that realm between cute and beautiful, but she wasn’t too young to upgrade, to be trading cheap meals for better meals.
Then, again, I had said “anywhere.”
“I’ll just have the salad.” Alyssa waved her hands as she spoke then reached to touch my arm. “Tomorrow’s my day off.”
Honey appeared to enjoy it all. I watched her catch Mikey’s eye and give her a subtle nod, perhaps permission to speak. I waited for Mikey to chime in.
It didn’t happen. Cecil’s door handle made a slight click. Alyssa and Mikey walked away. Honey went back to wrapping sandwiches in foil. By the time the boss poked his head out of the office, I was a customer. Under the watchful, perhaps suspicious eye of Cecil, I carried a small box of granola bars to the register. Up close I noticed Alyssa’s metallic tongue decor. I paid with a five from my wallet, not from the wad of bills in my front pocket, then hit the exit.
The grocery’s empty parking lot did nothing to drop my pucker level. A scan of my surroundings turned up zilch. I felt more discomfort in not seeing anyone than I had with the Charger and Impala right in my face. I hadn’t thought of my chat with Frank Polan as a comfort moment, but it beat standing there, pulling on my helmet, acting the bull’s-eye.
The three women appeared both fearful of Colding and anxious to talk. Their worry about Sally appeared genuine. I needed to exercise what I had learned at sea in the Navy, and
“You mind if I ask your employees a few questions?”
“Do it quick,” he said. “I’m not trying to roadblock you here. Go take two or three minutes, total, but no protracted interviews. Can’t have them sloughing off, right? I don’t pay the fuzzy-brains to speculate on tropical comings and goings.”
“Any particular one be a better choice than the others?”
He shook his head, sneaked in a neck swivel. I finally realized it was a nervous tic. I could tell he was hedging.
“I challenge you, try to find a lick of sense out there on the floor. On second thought, Rutledge, you want to chat up my help, make appointments for when they’re off the clock. Don’t pester them while they’re working. I got no say in their private lives. But I’m not running a singles bar.”
Cecil Colding wanted me out of the hen house.
I exited, closed the door, and softly said, “Holy shit.”
“Maybe unholy,” said Honey Weiss. “Welcome to Colding’s.”
“You’re making sandwiches for the evening rush?”
“No, for a boatload of night fishermen,” she said. “Are you a rep? What are you trying to sell Cecil?”
“I’m a friend of Sally’s dad. We’re worried about her.”
Honey nodded, tried to smile but looked grim instead. She looked over my shoulder. The shelf-stocker had walked up behind me. This one was Mikey. I had found her without trying. Her gray knit T-shirt read BIG PINK SOUTH BEACH . She looked about the same age as Alyssa but kept a reserved, quiet expression. She looked at Honey Weiss, as if for guidance or to urge her to say something.
I dug into my wallet but found only one business card. All it had was my name, the PO Box and my email address. Honey handed me a ballpoint pen. I almost wrote my phone number. A picture flashed in my head of a government snoop wearing earphones in a dark room listening to one of these young women, putting her name on a watch list. I wrote Carmen’s number.
“Cecil asked me to hurry out of here,” I said, “and I don’t want to cause you problems. If you can help at all, leave me a message at this number, please. I’ll meet you anywhere, you name it.”
“Cool,” said Mikey. “Rob’s Island Grill. Or Square Grouper.”
“Why there?” said Alyssa. “We can do a big lunch at Mangrove Mama’s.”
Alyssa wore a braided string necklace with a seashell dangling from it. Her ponytail was clumped into a bun, held by a green rubber band. She looked stuck in that realm between cute and beautiful, but she wasn’t too young to upgrade, to be trading cheap meals for better meals.
Then, again, I had said “anywhere.”
“I’ll just have the salad.” Alyssa waved her hands as she spoke then reached to touch my arm. “Tomorrow’s my day off.”
Honey appeared to enjoy it all. I watched her catch Mikey’s eye and give her a subtle nod, perhaps permission to speak. I waited for Mikey to chime in.
It didn’t happen. Cecil’s door handle made a slight click. Alyssa and Mikey walked away. Honey went back to wrapping sandwiches in foil. By the time the boss poked his head out of the office, I was a customer. Under the watchful, perhaps suspicious eye of Cecil, I carried a small box of granola bars to the register. Up close I noticed Alyssa’s metallic tongue decor. I paid with a five from my wallet, not from the wad of bills in my front pocket, then hit the exit.
The grocery’s empty parking lot did nothing to drop my pucker level. A scan of my surroundings turned up zilch. I felt more discomfort in not seeing anyone than I had with the Charger and Impala right in my face. I hadn’t thought of my chat with Frank Polan as a comfort moment, but it beat standing there, pulling on my helmet, acting the bull’s-eye.
The three women appeared both fearful of Colding and anxious to talk. Their worry about Sally appeared genuine. I needed to exercise what I had learned at sea in the Navy, and
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