I folded my hands on the table, the note in front of me. “Whenever you’re ready.” But instead of starting in on the “long and hard,” Bucky T. just sat there staring at me, a blank look on his face. He frowned. “What’s today again?”

“Friday,” I said.

He smiled, nodded. “Right. I knew that. Then yesterday. That’d be Thursday, right?”

“Jung gave you the note yesterday.” I wanted to be sure.

Bucky pressed his eyes closed, thought about it. “Yep. Late. He came by, tossed the stones at my window, and I . . .”

I held up a hand to stop him. “‘Stones’?”

Bucky blinked, smiled. “The bell’s out at my place. Stones work just as good if you hit the right spot and you’re tuned in to the message.”

“What? Never mind.” I waved for him to continue. “Go on.”

“Dude tosses the stones, I heard them, seeing as I was tuned in.” He winked as though sharing a secret. “I opened the door. There dude is. Says he’s got something he wants delivered to you. He hands it over. Says if you weren’t at your office, I was to come here and wait because you’d eventually stop in. Oh, then he said he didn’t want me dicking around with it, pardon my parlance, which I kinda took offense to. I’m all about the follow-through.”

“I was in my office,” I said. “In fact, I just came from there.”

Bucky blinked again, nothing seemed to be going on behind his glassy eyes. He shrugged. “I was starved. I figured I’d flip it and wait for you here.”

Jung Byson was weird enough. Now there was Bucky T. to contend with. Where did they grow these kids? “Do you know where Jung is now?”

“Nah. He dropped the note, turned down some brews and some primo . . . never mind . . . which is so not like the dude, then he booked it. He said he had to get back out there.”

“Out where?”

Bucky took another long draw from his straw. He had to really work at it. “Didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I took it in general terms, you know, out there . . . in the world . . . mingling with humanity. Dude seemed committed to it.” Bucky scanned the diner. “This looks like a cool place.”

“It isn’t.” I unfolded the paper, read it: I thought at least you’d believe me, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll prove I’m right, then you’ll see. If you’ve changed your mind, though, tell Buck. He knows how to get in touch. I groaned. Who knew flaky Jung could plunge the knife so deep?

“Something heavy?” Bucky asked. “You look a little weirded out.”

I held up the note, waved it. “Jung says you know how to get in touch?”

Bucky nodded. “Dude’s renting my cell. I guess I could maybe call it.”