and leave Florida now, only they can’t? They’re all renting out their houses.”
“You’re the good-news kid, aren’t you?”
“I just tell it like it is. Somebody has to.”
“Who appointed you?”
“It’s a God-given talent.”
Tracy knew she had to talk to Maribel, and soon, about the possibilities for Herb’s house. But she was feeling glummer by the moment.
“Yep, that’s them,” Wanda said, nodding toward the old men she had pointed out earlier.
Tracy wasn’t sure why this particular arrangement of age spots, crooked spines, badly shaven chins and funny-looking caps could seem so familiar to Wanda, but she went on faith. “Shall I talk to them, or would you like to?”
“Oh, I got you here, now it’s up to you.”
Tracy approached the old men, who didn’t look up. She still sent them her most dazzling smile, hoping it would somehow grab their attention. “Hi, gentlemen. My name is Tracy Deloche. Could you give me a moment of your time?”
She kept the smile firmly in place, because she had expected three sets of eyes to swing in her direction. Instead nobody stirred. The two who were seated on either side of a beat-up card table didn’t even look up. The third man, who cast a pencil-thin shadow over the table, gave her the briefest of glances, then went back to silently hovering.
Tracy wondered if they were all hard of hearing. What would it be like to be this old and used up, to have so little going for you that your whole day revolved around a silly game in the park? Out of respect for the obvious depth of their concentration, she waited a few seconds before she tried again.
“Gentlemen, I need just a moment. Then you can go right back to your game.”
This time even the hoverer didn’t glance her way. She moved a little closer and put on a bigger smile, as if she weren’t annoyed.
“You know, a girl just hates to be ignored. And this is about a friend of yours, Herb Krause. I’m his landlord, or I should say I was. He died day before yesterday.”
She paused, and for a moment she wondered if she was breaking bad news without preparation and the consequences to their feeble old hearts might be a problem. “Um, you know that, right?” She tried to sound sympathetic.
One of the men at the table finally looked up. He wore thick glasses and what might well be a toupee under his cap. “You have problems with your eyesight? We’re busy right now.”
She knew when to push an advantage. “I appreciate that, I really do. But I’ve got a problem, and you might be able to help.”
The second man at the table, who sported a mustache that was so thin she guessed it was only two hairs wide, looked up, and the two men stared at each other. Finally the second man turned to look at Tracy. “So you have the problem, but we’re supposed to drop everything?”
“Just for a second.” She put her thumb and forefinger together with just the smallest space between them. “A millisecond. I’m trying to find Herb’s family, and I know he used to play chess with you gentlemen. I’m just hoping one of you might remember something about them. See, we can’t find anybody he was related to. I have all his stuff, and the funeral home wants to cremate him.”
The man turned back to his friend. “You remember anything?”
“Not me.”
He looked up at the man above him. “How about you?”
“Nothing.”
“Can we go back to our game now?” he asked, without turning back around. “Now that we’ve dropped everything like you wanted?”
Tracy had learned from the master and knew better than to quit. “I don’t need a lot to go on. Did he mention children? Cousins? Nieces or nephews? If you’d just think for a minute?”
The hoverer pointed to the man facing Tracy. “You going to take all day to make that move?”
“Now I got to start all over again putting it together play by play. Since I got interrupted.”
“Go ahead,” the other player said. “We’ll wait. All we’ve got is time, and our little game.”
“Now, boys,” Tracy said in the voice that had usually gotten her anything she wanted from CJ. “If that was you lying over at the Memorial Funeral Home, wouldn’t you want somebody to help the people who cared enough to find your family? All I need is some little thing to go on. Doesn’t it bother you to think of Herb all alone, and the people who