“Why aren't you on your way to Atlantic City?” I ask.
“Where?”
“You guys said you were going down to A.C. The casinos?”
“Did we?” He yawns. “Oh, you mean at the diner? Yeah. We thought about it. But, the motel already has my credit card, and they'll charge me for the whole weekend if I check out.”
Mook. Cheap as always.
“So, we decided to stick around. Thought I'd hang with some of my old school buds.”
“I'm busy today.”
“Not you, pal. Nothing personal, but you're not that much fun anymore. You've been hanging out with Seedpack too much.”
I know he mispronounced Ceepak's name on purpose. I let him.
“Enjoy your coffee,” I say and start for the door into Sun Coast.
“You here to see Katie?”
I stop.
“Maybe.”
“She works downstairs, right?”
“So?”
Man, we even sound like we're fifteen again. At least I don't add a “What's it to ya?”
Mook smiles. He knows he's annoying me and he's loving every second of it.
“Say ‘hey’ for me.” He looks at his watch. “I'm meeting up with this guy from back in the day. Tell you the truth, I never really liked him, but hey …”
Maybe the feeling was mutual.
“Sort of a doofus, you know? But he called out of the blue yesterday, said he had that weed I was telling you about. Primo ganga. Jamaican. You ever do Jamaican?”
“Just Red Stripe.”
“The beer?”
“Yeah.”
“Beer just gives you a gut,” says Mook. “Weed? Completely non-fattening. Except for the munchies, of course.”
Marijuana. Like the T-shirt says, it's a special kind of stupid.
“Never pictured this dude for a dealer,” Mook says. “Wheezer was always more like a loser.”
“Enjoy.” I head for the door. “See you next summer.”
I go inside to order some coffee. For sure I'll see Mook sooner than next August. I'll be seeing him when “Seedpack” and I go ask him a few questions about his ARMY buddy's minivan.
“For me?” Katie unlocks the door and sees the tray with three cups of coffee jammed into the cardboard circles.
“One for you, two for me.”
“Great. Let me lock the door.” She leans in to twist the key.
“Something smells good.” I sniff her hair.
“That's chocolate, Danny. The store is full of it.”
“No. Your hair. Smells great.”
She laughs and her green eyes sparkle. I take another deep whiff of her hair.
“Rosemary and chamomile organic conditioning,” she says. “Enjoy it while you can. In another hour, it'll reek of candy apples.”
“Yum.”
“Help yourself.” She points to a tray where shiny red apples are lined up on a sheet of wax paper. It looks like some kind of Apple Day parade and the flat-bottomed balls are carrying sticks for flags they forgot to sew.
“Maybe later,” I say.
“So? How was the big dinner?”
“Did you talk to Olivia?”
“Nope. Was she working last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you guys get one of her tables?”
“No. Katie …”
“What?”
I'm not ready. So, I change the subject. “Hey-were you and Mook ever a couple?”
“Uh, no.” She does this funny little puff of air out one side of her lips that sends her bangs floating up above her face like wisps of cotton candy. “I think we played spin the bottle once. In fifth grade or something. I think I had to kiss him.”
“You lost, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“So you two never …”
“Never what?”
“You weren't ever a couple?”
“Me and Mook?”
“What about that summer we all met?”
“Nope. I was hanging with Becca and I think she knew Mook. Maybe they were dating. I forget. Becca dated a lot of guys.”
“Still does.”
“And then we met Olivia in the dressing room at-”
“Teeny's Bikinis!” I know this because it's one of my favorite stories-probably because it involves three topless girls giggling at each other when one of them forgot to slip the little hook in the eye on the half door and the three of them ended up sharing a changing booth. I always figured they became friends because they had nothing left to hide from each other.
“And you knew Jess, who I knew already because he was a lifeguard.” Katie giggles. “Remember how all the girls used to hang out around Jess's chair?”
“Yep. It's why I hung out there, too.”
She smiles and goes behind the counter to empty a bag of jelly beans into their Plexiglas bin.
“You want some help?”
“Sure. Thanks”
I move behind the counter and get the gist of it pretty quick. You open a cardboard box, pull out the five-pound plastic bag of whatever, find its bin, pour it in. If the cop thing doesn't work out, here's a possibility.
“Hey, Katie …”
“Yeah?”
“Last night …”
“It's okay you didn't call.”
“Hmmm?”
“I figured you'd call and tell me all about your big night. What happened? Did you and Ceepak hang afterwards, celebrate some more? Is that why you need two cups of coffee this morning?”
“No.” Moment of truth. “The thing is, we were shot at again last night.”
“WHAT?”
Remember-keep it simple.
“Just another … you know … kid with a paintball gun. Maybe the same guy … from the beach.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I'm fine. Just a bruise. Olivia was a little less lucky, though.”
“What do you mean? Olivia?”
“She was in the parking lot with me and Ceepak. She took a shot in the ribs.”
“Ohmigod.”
“Don't worry. Jess took her to the hospital. Mainland Medical.”
“Is she okay?”
“Jess says so. Treated and released.”
“I should call her.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you guys know who's doing this stuff?”
“We're working on it but, you see-I'm not supposed to talk about it too much.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Grab that box there.”
“The Junior Mints?”
“Yeah.”
Before I bend over, Katie frowns.
“You've got to catch this guy, Danny.”
“I know.”
“No matter what. I mean it. It's not funny. People shouldn't get their kicks like that, hurting other people.”
I try to make her smile.
“We should all play nice.” I put it in kindergarten terms.
“Yes. We should.”
“Don't worry. We'll get him.”
“Good.” She surprises me with a kiss on the lips. Mook may have kissed her first, back in the fifth grade, but I doubt little Katie Landry lingered on his lips like big Katie's lingering on mine. It's the sweetest kiss of my whole life, in fact, and not because we're in this candy shop and there's chocolate fumes and sugar dust in the air.
When we're done, Katie looks into my eyes.
“Do your job, okay, Danny?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I mean it!”
“I will.”
“Good.” She checks her watch. “Eight twenty-five. I better hustle.”
“Okay. Ceepak's meeting me here in, like, five minutes.”
She moves some rainbow-colored suckers around on the top of the counter. I rip open another cardboard box.
“Where do these go?”
“Second shelf.”
I bend down, lift out the plastic bag.
I hear a crack. Cinnamon hearts start to trickle down to the floor behind me. I see their Plexiglas bin has a tiny hole bored in its bottom so it's paying off like a slot machine, raining down a steady stream of red beads.
I look to my left.
Katie's on her back on the floor.
There's a small circle of red seeping through her white blouse like a leaky pocket pen.
“Katie …”
I cradle her head.
“Daaa.” she can only croak out half my name, the gurgling in her chest cuts off the rest. Her eyes go swimming before they roll up white and flutter shut.
“Hang on, Katie.”