Cady hopped out of the car and made her way to the fly-specked screen door of the Drop Zone. She didn’t look back.

Pete couldn’t resist saying, “Guess she told you.”

Boomer frowned. “If she’s telling the truth, and she remembers everything like she said, she sure is taking it well.”

Pete snorted as he talked louder to be heard over the music blasting out of the Drop Zone. “Jill’s right, you don’t know anything about women. She’s in shock. She didn’t go to the pond by herself. She probably sent the geriatric gang on home because she wanted to think.”

“I’m going to get out here, too, Pete. Call me if you hear anything about Amy.”

Pete stuck his head out the car window. “I wouldn’t go in there after her if I were you, Boomer. You two are like oil and water.”

“Thanks for the advice. Call me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pete said, putting his car in gear. He eased his way into traffic, his eyes on the rearview mirror. Boomer was standing on the corner like he didn’t know what to do.

Sometimes life was a bitch.

Inside the Drop Zone, the bartender growled, “Did you forget something?”

“No, I didn’t forget anything. I was wondering if you would mind if I went over there,” she said, pointing to the booth she’d sat in last night with Jill, “and had a drink. I have to warn you ahead of time I have no money with me. I will come back either later or tomorrow to pay you. Is that okay?”

The bartender looked Cady over from head to toe. He finally decided she might be a good advertisement for his bar. “Okay,” he growled.

“Good, I’ll start with a…cup of tea and one of those pickled eggs.” Her stomach protested just mentioning the words pickled eggs.

The serpent slithered as the bartender rubbed at his chin. “Tea?”

Cady’s head bobbed up and down. “Tea. Four sugars, no cream. Do you have any cigarettes?”

“This isn’t a grocery store, lady. Smoking isn’t good for you.”

“I know that. I need to think. People smoke when they think. I want to see if it works for me. Serious thinking. I’m going to need some napkins, too, in case I cry.”

“Jeez, lady, maybe you should go somewhere else. Like one of those fa-cil-ities for people with head problems.”

“I don’t have a head problem; my problem is my heart.”

“I don’t know CPR, lady. No one in here knows CPR. Why don’t you just go over to Eva’s and sit there?”

“Just give me the tea and egg,” Cady snapped. “Don’t forget the napkins.”

Forty minutes later, Cady was still sitting in the booth. She had three hard-boiled eggs wrapped in napkins in her pocket. She’d spilled the tea on the rough floor when the bartender wasn’t looking. She didn’t feel one bit better than when she’d walked in. Obviously it was time to go home. Her eyes filled. She blew her nose into a napkin and tossed it onto the soggy pile already littering the table. She looked up when she saw a shadow slide across the table.