“Deal. What I was going to say is, sorry you didn’t get to leave for college like you were supposed to. Joe and Chuy told me about that.”

She shrugged. Her dark hair swung forward to obscure her expression. “Yeah, I hope I can still get the scholarship. I was all set to go.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged again. “It’s a long, boring story. Some paperwork didn’t make it on time. Is it true you’re a telephone psychic?”

Manfred started to shrug and tell her that was a long, boring story, but he thought he’d come off as too sarcastic. “My grandmother was a psychic, too,” he said. “My mom . . . the talent skipped her. She became the polar opposite. She’s become so down to earth and normal that it hurts to talk to her.”

“So where does she live?”

“In Tennessee,” he said. “I grew up in Tennessee. I lived with my grandmother a lot of the time.”

“I haven’t seen my grandmother . . .” Creek began, and then she trailed off. “I don’t ever see my grandparents.”

Manfred was not a mind-reader, at least not consistently or casually, but he’d been trained to be observant. Creek had not planned on ending the sentence that way. She’d almost said something completely different, something that would have revealed a lot about Lovell family life. Manfred was wise enough not to push, though. “Where’s this hair place you’re going to?” he asked. Visibly relieved at the change in the conversation, Creek gave him directions. Kut N Kurl was in an add-on structure attached to a house in a humble part of Davy. Not that Davy has many grand parts, Manfred thought. Until he pulled up in front of the house, their conversation was steady but impersonal. It was a start, he figured.

“How long do you think you’ll be?” Manfred asked as Creek opened the car door.

“Usually takes an hour,” she said. “Minnie might be running late. There are magazines to read, so don’t worry if your own errands run longer. I’ll be watching out the window.”

Manfred could tell from the smile on Creek’s face that getting her hair cut was a treat. That seemed a little sad. Maybe Creek just enjoyed the rare afternoon being in the society of other women? Maybe just getting out of Midnight and the ever-present grind of the convenience store was the real delight? “Okay,” he said. “Message received. I’ll be back in an hour or a little more. You’ve got my cell phone number, I know.”

“Yeah,” she said, embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind.”