Page 34 of In the Nick of Time
“So this Elvis guy’s real name is Marvin. I’d go by Elvis too. What are we doing here besides watching an Elvis impersonator?”
“I’d like to learn if Esther talked to anyone. Maybe she left with someone. She has good instincts, so I suspect she came here for a reason. She’s a very focused agent. Besides, it’s our only clue beyond The Ace of Clubs.”
“Um.” Nick looked furtively around. “What’s her—you know?”
Two could play Nick’s game. Doug smiled at his partner. “I don’t know her sign. Maybe Aquarius?”
Now Nick rolled his eyes. “Nope. You know what I mean. Stop flipping me carp.”
“Carp?”
“There might be kids around.”
Maybe two couldn’t play Nick’s game.
“Agent Carroll can smell lies.”
“What?” Nick hissed.
“She can quite literally smell when people are lying to her.”
“That’s, like, wow. Why is that a SPAM thing and not the other unnamed organization?”
“That, I don’t know.”
“Okay, so. An agent who can smell when someone is lying to her was last seen here. How long has she been… missing?” He said the last word so quietly Doug almost didn’t hear him.
“A few days, as far as management knows.” Which pissed him off, but he couldn’t change the facts.
“Oh, the server’s on her way back.” Nick straightened slightly. “I don’t know, babe. I really want to stay and see Elvis here,” he said in a whiny voice. “The mob museum sounds cool, but can’t we go tomorrow?”
“If you don’t have tickets, you won’t get in today anyway,” Sherry said when she stopped at their table again. “Have you decided on something to eat? No one coming in has said anything about meeting friends.”
“I’ll have the wedge salad,” said Nick. “Gotta watch my figure.”
Doug snorted but softly. “And I’ll have a strip steak, rare, with a side salad, Caesar dressing. Thanks.” He pulled out his phone and opened it to a picture of him and Esther the last time they’d managed to meet and catch up; they were both smiling. Ester’s arm was weirdly elongated by the camera lens, but Doug liked it. “This is our friend.”
NINE
NICK
In which Nick is shocked and awed and, again, out of Hot Tamales.
Sherry peeredat the picture on Doug’s phone. Nick didn’t see anything like recognition cross her face.
She shook her head. “Haven’t seen her today, but I just clocked on before you arrived. Maybe she was here when I wasn’t working.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Sherry left to turn in their orders and, for once, Nick was at a loss for what to say. He’d spent the past few days giving Doug as much crap as he could, and the well was suddenly dry. Maybe because he was getting to know Doug, and it seemed to him that Doug truly cared about the agents. Teasing him was starting to feel weirdly serious, and Nick didn’t know how to handle those kinds of feelings. So, like any normal person, he was going to ignore them.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“Eat our meal and stick around for your autograph, then head to The Ace of Clubs again. I want to check out AgentCarroll’s vacation rental, but we don’t have access since it’s a private residence. They”—he raised his index fingers—“are getting a set of keys.”
“Do you think the weird bathroom guy could be our man?”
But if it was him, and he was on to Doug and Nick, why had he let Nick leave? That was a gaping hole in his theory.
