“Hola, Fiji!” Bobo said, flipping a hand toward the rocker that he’d favored before he’d tried out the velvet chair.

She smiled even more happily after his greeting and sat her generously curved derriere in the rocking chair. “How are you, Bobo?” she asked, a little anxiously.

“Good. And yourself?”

She relaxed. “Fine as frog’s hair. What are you thinking about today?”

“My new neighbor,” Bobo said promptly. He had never lied to Fiji.

“I took him some lemonade and cookies,” she said.

“What kind of cookies?” Bobo asked, because to him that was the important point.

She laughed. “The sand tarts.”

Bobo closed his eyes in exaggerated longing. “You have any left over?”

“I might have kept some back, after I had a good look at him. He didn’t look like much of a cookie eater.” In fact, Manfred’s thin body had made Fiji all too conscious of her own curves.

Bobo slapped his stomach, which was still quite flat. “Not my problem,” he said.

“No, it’s not,” she said dryly. “I’ll bring ’em over later.” Then she paused, just on the verge of saying something else.

“Out with it,” he said.

“I recognized him,” she said. “Manfred.”

His brilliant blue eyes opened wide. “From where?”

“From the newspapers. From People magazine.”

Bobo sat forward, his lazy contentment destroyed. “Maybe you better tell me,” he said, but he didn’t sound excited. “I’m surprised you didn’t come over before.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I . . .” She stopped dead.

“What?”

She looked as though she wished she’d sink through the floor. “You’ve had enough to deal with since Aubrey took off.”

“You really don’t need to coddle me, Feej,” he said. “Women leave guys every day. I felt pretty damn bad about it, but she’s gone and I haven’t heard from her. Aubrey’s not coming back.” He forced himself out of the abyss always waiting to swallow him. “So what’s the deal with Manfred?”

“Okay, then,” Fiji said, shrugging. “He’s a psychic.”

Bobo began to laugh. “A phone psychic? No wonder he was so interested in the phone and Internet situation here. He must have asked me a dozen questions. I couldn’t even answer all of them.” Midnight was very fortunate in getting excellent cell phone service and Internet service, purely by chance. A division of Magic Portal, a major Internet gaming company, was located just close enough.

Fiji’s lips tightened. “Ha-ha,” she said flatly. “Listen, I know you’re not a computer person, but Google his name, okay? You know how to Google, don’t you?”

“I just put my lips together and blow?” Bobo said.

Fiji caught the reference, but she wasn’t in the mood for jollity. “Bobo, he’s the real deal.” She wriggled uneasily in her hard wooden rocker. “He’ll know stuff.”