I left her extracting her foot out of her mouth.
Dolores was taking orders, saying such things to the customers as, “Skinny lah-tay, uh, come again?” and Duke was making coffee.
Dolores worked at the Little Bear which was a very cool and could-get-rowdy bar in Evergreen. She could take an order for eight margaritas, two without salt, three frozen, three Jack and cokes, a white Russian and a Shirley Temple, fill it without a mistake and carry it all to the table on one tray. With coffee, she was hopeless. She came in to help out at Fortnum’s every once in awhile and it was never pretty.
I shouldered in next to Duke and made Hank a cappuccino with a triple shot. Pepper Rick was still on the loose and I wanted Hank hyper-alert. Hank positioned himself at the end of the counter, in full view of the front door and in reaching distance of me.
“I guess I picked the wrong time for a bender,” Duke said to me.
“Yeah, but I’m getting used to getting stun-gunned, kidnapped and shot at. Finding the dead body was a serious bummer and Tex got shot in the shoulder last night but other than that, no worries.”
Duke went still. Dolores looked up from the paper cup on which she was frantically misspelling instructions in hot pink marker and stared at me with huge eyes. The customer standing in front of the espresso machine gaped at me.
Er, I guess Lee didn’t fill Duke in yesterday.
“You wanna run that by me again?” Duke suggested.
I eyed the customer and pulled at the machine. “Later.”
We cleared the throng just as the happy sound of the cash register at the book counter rang. As per usual, everyone looked up and Ally yelled the ceremonial, “I sold a book!”
Sometimes when someone sold a book, we shouted it. It was cause for celebration.
I did my book sale happy dance, waving my arms and turning in a circle. When I finished my dance, I noticed it was The Kumars’ purchase. They were standing in front of Ally and I gave them a big thumbs up.
In slow motion, old Mrs. Salim returned the gesture and I feared that her thumb would break off in a poof of dust like the zombie’s arm in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. She snatched the bag from Ally with bony fingers and they walked out on a wave, Mrs. Salim shuffling behind, her bag rustling.
“Now that we have a second, let’s go back over the kidnapping and dead body thing,” Duke said to me, his fingers scratching his forehead under his trademark rolled, red bandana.
My cell phone rang.
Saved by the cell.
I flipped it open.
“Hello?”
Silence, then a quiet voice said, “I need a Rock Chick rescue.”
“Sorry?”
“A scary guy was at the door. He’s gone but I know he’s gonna come back, I know it. He knows I’ve got them and he’s gonna get me like he got Tim.”
It was The Kevster. Who was at the door, only God knew, but it didn’t sound good. And The Kevster had something, something I hoped was glittery and worth a million dollars.
“Kevin?” I asked.
“You gotta help me.”
The phone went dead.
I looked to Ally.
“The Kevster’s in trouble.” I swung my eyes to Hank. “We gotta roll.”
I took off from behind the counter but was halted on a skid when Hank grabbed a handful of my tee.
“What’s goin’ on?”