“What are you doing?”
“Making a nuisance of myself.”
“You do that so well.”
“Practice, practice, practice.”
“Any progress?”
“I just started.”
“Let me know what happens. You know how I love your adventures.”
That made me chuckle. “You say it, but we both know it’s not altogether true.”
“Is Tracie what’s-her-name with you?” Nina asked.
“Yep.”
“Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do. You. Love. Me?”
“Of course.”
“Say it.”
“I love you.”
“Did she hear?”
I glanced at Tracie. She continued walking with measured, graceful strides, looking straight ahead, her face without expression.
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay,” Nina said. “Have a nice day. I’ll talk to you soon.”
After Nina hung up, I slipped the cell phone back into my pocket.
“Was that your girlfriend?” Tracie said.
“Yes.”
“Nina?”
“Yes.”
“She sounds needy.”
“Does she? I hadn’t noticed.”
We were nearly back to the hotel before Tracie spoke again. “Now what?”
“The mayor first, I think. Eventually we’ll get to everyone who knew the password.”
“They’re all suspects?”
“Yep.”
“Including me?”
“Yep.”
“Why would I help Rush steal our money?”
“When does your ex-husband get out of stir? Eighteen months? What happens to your allowance then?”
“It’ll go to him.”
“What will you do? Go back to modeling?”
“I’m a little old for that.”
“Exactly.”
“My God, McKenzie, you’ve got a suspicious mind.”
“Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”
I drove. Tracie directed us west out of town and then north until we came to the intersection of Highways 20 and 73. She said the southwest corner was where the Imposter proposed building the outlet mall. A combination gas station and convenience store called Miller Big Stop occupied the northeast corner. A restaurant with a bar called Grandma Miller’s was next to it. A new and used auto dealership that seemed to specialize in pickup trucks called Miller Ford was next to that.
“Some people love the sound of their own names,” I said.
“Huh?” said Tracie.
“Never mind.”
We pulled into the lot outside the restaurant. The life-sized head of a bison hung above the door. I was surprised when it greeted us as we approached, its cartoon voice triggered by a motion detector.
“It’s awfully lonely hanging by a nail up here all day,” the bison said. “If it weren’t for you nice people stopping for a chat once in a while, I don’t know what I would do. If only I had a female buffalo to talk to.”
It started singing “Blue Moon,” switching the lyrics to lament that he didn’t have a dream in his heart or a bison of his own.
“Somewhere Rodgers and Hart are spinning in their graves,” I said.
“I think it’s cute,” Tracie said.
“I’m sure that’s what they were going for when they wrote the song.”
“You’re cynical, you know that, McKenzie?”
Cynical and suspicious, my inner voice said.
A sign just inside the restaurant door invited us to seat ourselves, and so we did, claiming a table in front of a large window with a view of the highway. The tables, chairs, and bar were all made of burnished redwood, yet they were covered by such a thick coating of polyurethane that they might as well have been plastic. A big-screen HD TV tuned to Fox News occupied each corner of the room. Thankfully, the volume was off.
I was watching what little traffic there was on the highway while paper place mats, silverware, and water glasses magically appeared before us. A young and pretty voice said, “We just closed our breakfast buffet, so you’ll have to order off the menu.” It was only then that I noticed our server and she recognized me.
“Small world,” I said.
Saranne Miller blinked hard. “Too small,” she said.
I took the menu from her outstretched hand. “How’d it go with the boyfriend this morning?”
“Boyfriend?” Her pretty lips curled into a slight grimace, as if she knew a painful secret she didn’t wish to share. “He had his chance. Why? Are you looking to take his place?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What makes you different from every other man in this town?”
“I’m not from this town.”
“That’s the only thing about you I like.”
Across the table, Tracie’s intense eyes moved from Saranne to me and back again as if she were watching a tennis match. I opened the menu.
“What would you recommend?” I said.
“Eat at home.”
Tracie laughed, but the expression on Saranne’s face told me that she was perfectly serious.
The first item that caught my eye was Grandma Miller’s World-Famous Third-Pound Burger with Bleu Cheese, Lettuce, and Tomato, so I ordered that, staying with potato chips instead of paying extra for the fries. Tracie ordered a salad with cottage cheese on the side—once a model, always a model, I guessed.
