She tossed Steaks a smile and said, “In the words of the inimitable Arnold, ‘I’ll be back.’”

“Not good, Roberts…to stop and start.”

“Tell that to the cops, Eric.”

“Cops?”

Another voice said, “Will you two shut the fuck up?”

Eric said. “Fuck off.”

Tandy held the door open for Marge. “Classy place, huh?”

“You people aren’t long on patience.”

“It’s part of the mind-set,” Tandy said. “You’ve got to approach lifting like the enemy. The swearing and all that kind of jazz is needed to psych yourself up. Lifting is really hard work.”

“Why do you do it?”

The question seemed to throw her. She thought a moment before responding. “Each person has their own personal reasons.”

“What were yours?”

“What does this have to do with Marie?”

“Nothing.”

“So my personal reasons are my personal reasons.”

“Fair enough.”

They crossed the street and walked into the juice bar in silence. The place was small, holding a horseshoe-shaped counter and about twenty empty stools. Behind the counter were baskets of fresh fruit, a couple of citrus juicers, several presses, and three juice dispensers bubbling up lemonade, orange juice, and some kind of green citrus drink. A young woman in a leotard and leg tights came out from the back and smiled when she saw her customer.

“Hey, Tandy.”

“Hey, Kathy.”

“Usual?”

“Not yet. Haven’t finished my workout yet. Get my friend a special—”

“An orange juice is fine,” Marge said.

“You’re missing out on something wonderful.”

“I’m not hungry,” Marge said. “I just ate two hot dogs with sauerkraut.”

Tandy frowned. “Each his own, I suppose. When I was having eating problems, nobody could tell me the gospel, either.”

“Eating problems?”

Tandy sighed. “Do you want to talk about Marie, or do you want to talk about me?” She paused. “What’s with Marie, anyway?”

“Did you happen to catch any TV news today?”

“Nope. Don’t watch the news. It’s a downer. Don’t watch any TV if I can help it.”

“So you didn’t see the missing infant on this morning’s broadcast.”

Tandy wet her lips. “No.”

Kathy, the bartender, placed a beer mug filled with orange juice on the counter. Marge picked up the stein and sipped, waiting for Tandy to speak, throwing the ball in her court. She picked it up nicely.

“What about this missing infant?”

“Marie was the baby’s nurse. Marie seems to be missing, too.”

“Marie’s missing?”

“That’s what I said. How well did you know her?”

Tandy paused. “Pretty well, I suppose.”

Again Marge waited, expecting to hear Tandy ask questions. She didn’t. Nor did she clarify her friendship with Marie. “Do you want to elaborate?”

“We were good friends for about a year…maybe two years. What exactly do you mean, Marie is missing?”

“One minute she was on shift, the next minute she and the baby were gone.”