CHAPTER 21

.....As Wolfe passed beneath the clock of the American Security Bank, he neared Mrs. Prescott and a matronly lady discussing the previous night’s television.
.....“Did you catch the Special last night?” The old woman was shaking her head in dismay at the recollection.
.....Mrs. Prescott sighed heavily. “Of course. Can you believe it? That... person actually won.”
.....“What do you expect?” the matronly lady nodded. “Those people don’t vote because of someone’s talent, they vote...”
.....She trailed off as Wolfe neared. He smiled a greeting as he passed, then continued on down the sidewalk.
.....“And Darren had the loveliest voice,” Mrs. Prescott continued. “They stole it from him...”
.....As he navigated Main Street, passerby gave him looks. Some appraising, some just the unblinking stink-eye. Ahead, a small crowd had their backs to him, gathered at the foot of a light pole. He moved up and craned his neck to look over the shoulder of one: it was a MISSING poster for a soulful-eyed Cocker Spaniel, taped over a flier for one of the missing teens.
.....“... it’s just so sad, that even...” one of the crowd murmured.
.....The voice trailed off as the small cluster became aware of Wolfe in their midst.
.....He ducked into the McDonald’s.
.....That stupid Bruce Hornsby song piped softly from the speakers. It seemed like every time that Wolfe wandered into one of these joints, that same stupid song was playing. Maybe someday the man would record another song and they could alternate the two.
.....At the register ahead of him, a small boy stood on his toes to put a dollar on the counter.
.....“A large Coke, please.”
.....The cashier smiled down at him, lifting a bucket branded with the Coca-Cola logo from behind the counter.
.....“For a quarter less, you can Super-size it this week!”
.....By the looks of what struggled to burst the seams of her polyester, the girl had spent more than her share of company time Super Sizing it. Her name tag read BAMBI.
.....The boy puzzled over the math, and then gave in to the sales pitch.
.....Sometimes adults knew what was best.
.....Sometimes.
.....This time seemed like one of those times. “'Kay.”
.....He collected his quarter change and hurried his vessel over to the child-sized fountain parked next to the adult version. Standing on his toes, he began the long task of filling it. Caramel-colored sugar water began to cascade down into the bottomless pit, empty calories that foamed up into a head of even emptier calories to be tossed aside to make room for more liquid glop.
.....Lather, rinse, repeat.
.....The girl called after him. “There’s free in-store refills on that, too!”
.....Wolfe shook his head as he stepped up to the counter. “Damn, that kid is gonna be spun.”
.....The cashier looked at him blankly. “Help you?”
.....“Yeah, I’ll take...”
.....He considered his options, none of them appetizing.
.....“... one of those McMuffin things. Sausage.” He dug into his pocket for his money, then scanned the menu. “Do you have bottled water?”
.....“Excuse me?” she said. Wolfe found it amazing how two words that sounded nothing at all like ‘Fuck You’ could still come out of someone’s mouth sounding that way.
.....“You know... water? In a bottle?”
.....He looked at her, she looked at him. Somewhere along the line, communication of a sort was reached.
.....She rolled her eyes without actually rolling them. She’d save that for later; belatedly she had realized that the asshole across the counter from her might actually be one of those Mystery Shoppers management sprung on them occasionally. “Do you want a complimentary water?”
.....“Sure.”
.....She dropped a Dixie cup on the counter and regarded him with blank eyes, just waiting for some smart-assed remark. In the House of Super Size, the cup seemed positively dainty.
.....He eyed it dubiously. “Could you Super-size that for me?”
.....“Might as well get a Coke,” she shrugged, the effort rippling down her body in an aftershock. “Same price.”
.....“Water’s fine. Do I get refills on that too?”
.....She shrugged again and Wolfe felt himself getting a little seasick.
.....Bambi handed him his McMuffin. It was fast, but it was sorry looking. Wolfe wasn’t sure he wanted to know how long it had been sitting under the heat lamp.
.....As he filled his branded bucket with water, the boy still toiled with his.

.....It was a pleasant afternoon to bide one’s time in the central park. Wolfe parked himself on a bench and finished off the oily McMuffin . Wiping his mouth on part of the fistful of napkins included with his order, he crumpled them up in the waxed sandwich wrapper, dropped it into the paper bag, and wadded the whole package up into a tight ball; banked it with a smooth overhand toss into the trash receptacle across the sidewalk.
.....He shoots, he scores. Rah!
.....“Hidden talents, m’boy,” observed Doc as he ambled up and parked his long frame on the other end of the bench. “When you going pro?”
.....“When burger joints start sponsoring the teams.”
.....Doc sniffed, and gave him a wry crinkle of the nose.
.....“Damn, son. You smell like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”
.....“I can’t even begin to tell you what part of my body hurts the worst.”
.....“I can guess.”
.....“No... that part’s just numb.”
.....Doc fired up one of his handrolled cigarettes. Wolfe sniffed suspiciously.
.....“It’s prescription,” Doc explained, passing the joint. “Doctor’s orders. It’ll take the edge off.”
.....Wolfe took a drag, held it, then exhaled. “Pardon my French, but when was the last time that girl got laid?”
.....Doc did the math. “Well, Bryce went over to Iraq ’bout two, two-and-a...”
.....“Who in the hell is Bryce?” That sharp pain behind his eye started to come back.
.....“She didn’t... hm.” Doc blinked at him. “Me and my big ol’ mouth.”
.....“She’s married?”
.....“Was,” Doc clarified. “Tanya’s been a Gold Star Widow for ’bout a little over a year now.”
.....“Wait a minute,” Wolfe winced. “Bryce...”
.....“Crawford.”
.....“That dead guy on the poster all over town?”
.....“Our hero.”
.....“And I...”
.....“Yep.”
.....“No wonder everybody’s been giving me the stink-eye today.”
.....“Naw, those are just their natural expressions,” Doc chuckled. “Didn’t make any new friends, though.”
.....“Damn, I remember him now,” Wolfe nodded. “He and his brother were a year ahead of me in high school. Roy. That fucker kicked the shit out of me on more than a few occasions. What happened with him?”
.....“He’s our sheriff.”
.....Well, damn.
.....“That makes sense.” Wolfe reflected on the sad reality that bullies and the people they picked on went on to make up police forces all the world over. “Is that a bad thing?”
.....“For the town? No... he’s a good enough sort, as far as cops go.” Doc eyed him doubtfully. “For you... eh.”
.....“C’mon, man. I need a whole lot more to work with than just an ‘eh’.”
.....Doc shook his head and leaned back, draping an arm across the back of the bench. He was torn between holding his tongue or indulging in gossip.
.....It wasn’t too much of a struggle. Most everyone in town already knew everything about anything he had to gossip about.
.....“Well, then... after his brother died, Roy sort of took it on himself to keep an eye out for Tanya.”
.....“Great... that would be a bad thing.” Wolfe sighed. “I suppose that explains all the tickets.”
.....Doc looked at him and blinked. “Tickets?”
.....“I keep getting tickets for flickering taillights and...”
.....“No, that’s just the town making money for itself. Business as usual.”
.....“Anything else I should know?”
.....“Sure.”
.....“Well?”
.....Doc shrugged. “Not my place.”
.....“Hey, you're the one who brought it up...”
.....“I just gave you the big picture.”
.....“Thanks.”
.....“It’s up to Tanya to fill in the details.” Doc eyed him pointedly. “That’s what getting to know someone is all about.”
.....A bell tolled off in the near distance. Wolfe looked around for a clock, but a tree obscured the one in front of the bank.
.....“Shit. What time is it?”
.....Doc consulted his bare wrist. “About eleven-thirty.”
.....“I forgot to check out of The Watergate.” Wolfe said.
.....“Check out?”
.....“I mean... renew. Whatever.”
.....Doc gave him a steady look. “One thing about Tanya... the girl is as good as gold, but she is a little high maintenance, bless her heart.”
.....Wolfe leaned back against the bench and looked at the doctor warily.
.....“Someone saying ‘Bless her heart’ is never a good sign,” Wolfe observed. “How high is the high maintenance?”
.....“All I know is that she’s a beautiful woman that owns her own house...”
.....Wolfe considered his hand and raised: “And a bar.”
.....Doc nodded his agreement. “... and a bar, all free and clear. Of course dead men paid for them, but you’re still alive. Am I right?”
.....“Last time I checked.” Wolfe made a show of feeling for a heartbeat, and smiled at Doc in mock relief. “Yep, still ticking.”
.....“And if I was fifteen years younger and she was fifteen older, you and me wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
.....Doc eased up off of the bench, waved without looking back as he made his way to his post.

.....There were two minutes left on the meter in front of the Valiant, and the two Boy Scouts were hunched over the car like vultures. There was an electronic ticket gizmo in one of their hands.
.....“Amazing what they hand out merit badges for these days...” observed Wolfe as he walked up behind them and unlocked the car door.
.....The two started, then looked about nonchalantly. Everywhere but at Wolfe seemed of particular interest.
.....He climbed into the Valiant and fired it up.
.....He backed out, waved, then drove off down the main drag back towards the motel. The yellow ribbon of the bumper sticker seemed to laugh at the scouts until the car faded off in the distance.
.....The scouts looked at each other.
.....“What do we have next?”
.....Number One looked left. “Number forty-two is all the way down there and expires in three minutes...”
.....He considered his BlackBerry, pointed the other direction:
.....“... but Fifty-five is closer, but goes red in six.”
.....Decisions, decisions.
.....Number One snapped his wrist from an imaginary cuff, flashing his new Pulsar watch as he checked the time: “And Rush Limbaugh is on in four.”
.....“Dookie!” Number Two muttered, darting an envious glance at the watch.
.....Someday...