She stopped at a Quick Mart two blocks away, gathering what she needed and dropping it on the counter in front of a stoop-shouldered woman whose name tag read Susan and who looked bored. At the last minute, she ran back to the fridge to get water and an energy drink. The bottle with the yellow label caught her eye—the one the bartender had shown her. Something was loosening in her memory, but she couldn’t quite grasp it yet. Grabbing the bottle of coffee syrup, she carried it to the register with her drinks. “I’ll have a pack of Capris, a lighter and that phone,” Rainy said, pointing, and pulling out her cash. Sad-looking Susan turned to grab the cigarettes and phone from the back wall. She looked at the coffee syrup with interest before sliding it into the bag with the box of Band-Aids, the phone and the drinks.

“Want these out?” She held up the cigarettes and lighter and Rainy nodded.

“I don’t actually want to buy the coffee syrup. I just have kind of a weird question about it. And do you get a lot of regulars over here from the hotel staff?”

“Oh, yeah.” She looked over at Rainy and annoyance lined her face just as much as the sun had. “They treat this place like it’s their lunchroom. It’s cheaper to buy stuff over here, you know? So they stop on the way in and on the way out.”

Rainy pursed her lips, nodding slowly. “Anyone come in here to buy this coffee syrup on the regular?” Rainy had that feeling again: it was the mist that kept showing up in her head, the mist she couldn’t see through. The bartender hadn’t been the only guy she’d known who drank that syrup. The compound had been a mecca for weirdos from all over America, and one of those weirdos had that bottle at the compound.

“Yeah, there are a couple guys who love that stuff. Say you can’t find that brand anywhere else around here.”

“Yeah? The guys ever heard of Amazon?”

Susan found that remark hilarious and her face didn’t look so sad anymore. She winked at Rainy before slipping the lighter into the paper bag without ringing it up. Rainy could be generous, too. And since they were playing that game...

“Hey, do you happen to know their names? The guys who buy the syrup.”

Susan frowned as she studied the lotto tickets thoughtfully. “They come in here separately. I don’t think they know each other.”

“Oh,” Rainy said.

Susan was looking at her differently now, eyeing her almost regretfully. She was sad Susan again. Rainy was disappointing her.

“I’m not a cop or anything,” Rainy added.