Andrea did another quick inventory, not to catastrophize but to make herself aware of her physical state. Her fight or flight was going berserk. She was sweating. Her heartbeat was as tight as a cymbal. Adrenaline was making her dizzy. She was on the balls of her feet. Her muscles were tight. Her fists were clenched. She was holding her breath.
She opened her mouth. She sucked in air.
She exhaled, then inhaled, then out, then in again, until the dizziness passed.
Andrea silently listed the things she had not observed. The truck had not been speeding. Nardo had not been constantly turning, looking for tails. He had not continued down the road on his way out of town. Star was not driving while Nardo hid in the back of the truck. There was nothing frantic about either of their actions.
She felt jarred by a sudden realization. Nardo wasn’t making his escape. He was fucking with Ricky. Melody Brickel had told Andrea he was in the diner at least once a week. He always dragged Star along to serve as his audience.
Andrea pushed herself away from the building. She took one last look over her shoulder. The road was clear. There was no one coming. She kept her arms loose at her side as she walked down the sidewalk. Ten more paces and she was in front of the diner. She looked past the neon signs. There were only three people inside. They were arrayed in a lopsided triangle across the restaurant.
Nardo was at the sharpest point, taking up space in the semi-circular booth. Ricky was standing behind the counter near the cash register. Star was sitting on a stool at the far end. She was staring straight ahead at the tiled wall. Her hands were clasped in front of her, which made her angular shoulder blades stick out from her back like two shark fins.
Andrea had reached the entrance. She looked through the glass door. Her eyes found the security camera in the corner. The full bar behind the cash register. The long hallway that led past the bathroom, the kitchen, and exited onto the boardwalk and the Atlantic. Andrea reached for the door handle. Her fight or flight tried to overrule her. Her skin felt clammy. Sweat had pooled into the band of her pants. Her vision was so crisp that her eyes ached.
She reminded herself that they wouldn’t know any of these things. All that mattered was how Andrea looked when she walked into the diner.
She opened the door.
“Oh, shit,” Ricky said.
Andrea looked awful. She had survived a fire. She’d nearly broken her nose. She’d cut open her forehead. She’d split her lip. If she looked sweaty and shaky, there was a damn good reason for it.
Nardo bellowed, “Wut woah Ricky Jo, Porky Pig just showed up. Better not viowate your westraining order.”
Star said nothing. She didn’t even turn around.
“Ignore the asshole.” Ricky used the knife in her hand like a pointer, indicating a red line of tape on the floor. “Twenty-five feet.”
The restraining order. Nardo kept coming to the diner because he wanted Ricky to violate it. Ricky had marked the line so that she wouldn’t. The camera in the corner kept them both honest. Star was there because the game would mean nothing if no one could watch it.
None of which mattered because all that Andrea needed was a telephone.
She walked toward the counter. She let herself look at Nardo. His arms were splayed across the back of the booth. A large plate of spaghetti was on the table. While Andrea watched, he lifted a stein of beer as if to toast her.
Ricky had kept his plate warm. She had known he was coming.
“You okay, hon?” Ricky’s jaw worked her chewing gum. She was slicing fruit for the breakfast rush. The bangles on her wrists tapped against the counter. She was like her own percussion section. The knife hit the cutting board, then her gum popped, then the bangles clicked, then the knife hit the cutting board.
“I’m good.” Andrea positioned herself at the counter so she could keep an eye on Nardo. The mirror behind the bar gave her a full view of the restaurant. The cash register was on her left. Ricky was at a diagonal across the counter on Andrea’s right. Star was in her periphery. The woman had taken no notice of Andrea’s entrance. The counter was empty in front of her. She had not moved since Andrea had walked through the door.
“Heard about the fire, hon.” Ricky was keeping one eye on Andrea as she sliced a cantaloupe. Their discussion at Ricky’s house had not ended well. She was clearly still on guard. “I can fix you a sandwich. We’re out of pasta.”
Andrea noticed the sign taped to the cash register—
PHONE IS NOT FOR CUSTOMER USE.
“Hon?” Ricky asked.
Andrea had to swallow before she could speak. “No thanks. Can I have some tequila?”
“Looks like you need it.” Ricky let the knife clatter onto the cutting board. Without asking for a brand, she grabbed the Milagro Silver off the bottom shelf. “I could smell the smoke from my place. Damn, that house has been around for yonks. Hard to believe it’s gone. Everybody’s okay, right?”
“Yes.” Andrea could see the sweat from her hands had dripped onto the counter. She had to get Ricky back on her side. “I’m not supposed to tell anybody—”
Ricky perked up as she filled a shot glass to the rim.
“The judge’s husband—”
“Franklin.”
“Right.” Andrea leaned forward, kept her voice low. “He wasn’t doing well to begin with, but after the fire …”
Ricky gave a slow nod to say that she understood. “It’s sad the amount of tragedy that family has had to put up with over the years. Is Judith okay?”
“She’s sad. It might help if she heard from you.”
Ricky nodded again. “I’ll make some food. People always need food.”
“I’m sure the judge will be grateful.” Andrea reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She tried to look as if she’d just remembered it was broken. “Crap.”
“Crap is right.” Ricky placed the tequila in front of Andrea. “You stick that thing in a microwave?”
“It got damaged during the fire.” Andrea felt her voice growing thin. She cleared her throat. “I know you’ve got a sign, but can I use your phone?”
“The sign’s for tourists.” Ricky reached under the cash register. She lifted up the phone and plopped it down on the counter.
Andrea stared at the ancient-looking machine. A cord ran out the back. The receiver was connected by a springy cord. The number keys were on the base. Andrea’s plan had been to take the cordless phone into the back hall for privacy. The corded landline wasn’t going anywhere.
“You okay, hon?” Ricky was back to the cutting board. She gave Nardo a telling glance.
“Yeah, rough day.” Andrea looked at the mirror. Nardo was watching. Ricky was watching. Only Star seemed to not care.
Andrea picked up the phone. She told Ricky, “I forgot to say the call is long distance, but I can give you cash.”
“That’s cool.” Ricky grabbed a handful of strawberries. “Just make it quick.”
Andrea dialed the only number she had ever memorized. The phone rang once before it was answered.
“Darling?” Laura sounded like she hadn’t gone back to sleep. “What is it?”
“Hey, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back after I left the hospital.”