“Yeah. I guess.”
“When one door closes, another door opens.”
“Yeah,” I crack, “but it's hell in the hallway.”
“You still miss Katie?”
I'm about to say, “Nah,” when I remember Ceepak's Code. Not only won't he lie, cheat, or steal, he also won't tolerate anybody who does. I am, therefore, once again compelled to tell him the truth.
“Yeah. Sort of.”
He nods his head like the big brother I never had.
“Understandable. Katie is a wonderful woman.”
“Yeah. Must be why she moved all the way across the country to get away from me.”
Now Ceepak shakes his head. “Not you, Danny. The memories. Her secret sadness. I believe Springsteen says it best….”
Of course he does.
He's quoting “Darkness on the Edge of Town” again.
“Danny, Katie had to cut herself free from Sea Haven and what happened here or it would have dragged her down for the rest of her life.”
As usual, The Boss and Ceepak are correct, but it doesn't really make me feel any better. So, I tear open another cracker wrapper.
Ceepak tilts his wrist, checks his watch.
“You should definitely meet up with this young lady. Aubrey. It's only twenty-fifteen. Finish your soup and we'll swing by the house so you can pick up your Jeep.”
“Don't you want to go talk to Trumble like Gus suggested? He's right, you know. A lot of the teenage runaways eventually end up there.”
“10-4. However, I feel it might be best if we pay the Reverend a visit first thing tomorrow morning while he's serving breakfast. I find people are often most forthcoming when they're too busy to play games or plot deceptions. Who knows-maybe our redheaded friend will be there as well.”
The thief from the beach. I had forgotten all about her.
Ceepak leans back in the booth and stares off into space, his face softening. I swivel in my seat to see what he sees, what he's smiling at.
Of course. It's Rita. She's over by the bar with her soft blonde hair backlit by the golden glow of a neon Corona Beer sign. She beams back at him and waves something in our general direction.
“Wonder what that might be….” As if she heard him, Rita does a quick scan of her crowded tables to make sure everybody has everything they need for the next two seconds, and then darts across the dining room to join us.
“Look you guys-T. J. went to the top of the Empire State Building!”
She puts a postcard down on our table.
“That's wonderful,” says Ceepak.
“John, he's having such a great time….”
Ceepak sort of blushes. He doesn't want the whole world knowing he paid for Rita's sixteen-year-old kid to go see King Kong's perch. Not that he's embarrassed about doing it. It's praise that usually makes Ceepak feel all squirmy. I think it's why he never talks about the ton of medals he earned in the Army.
“Neither one of us can ever thank you enough,” says Rita. “He went to Greenwich Village and this free rock concert in Central Park….”
Ceepak allows a slight smile to cross his lips.
“I never could have afforded to send him up to my sister's … not on my own … I mean not with everything else … you know, back-to-school clothes and school supplies and….”
“Rita, I'm very glad to hear that T. J.'s having fun,” Ceepak says softly. “He's a good kid.”
Rita leans down because she can't resist giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
Ceepak's grin grows so wide his wiggling dimples look like parentheses quivering on either side of his nose.
Rita giggles when she finds a tear in her eye.
“Look at me. I'm a mess.” She dabs it away with her thumb. “Thanks again, honey.”
“You are very welcome.”
Romance fills the air. Almost enough to cover up the smell of overcooked broccoli and lobster brine. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky. If not tonight, sometime soon. If not Aubrey, someone else.
“He'll be home on Friday,” says Rita, composing herself, brushing invisible wrinkles out of her crisp white blouse. “They need him on the boardwalk. Apparently, they're expecting big crowds on account of the Sand Castle Competition.”
T. J. works part-time at this game booth on the boardwalk, helping people lose their money by flinging rubber rings at two-liter Coke bottles in a frantic attempt to win their girlfriend some kind of cuddly stuffed monkey.
“Miss?”
A man three tables away, a huge man with a napkin tucked under his three chins and a glob of sour cream dotting the tip of his nose, is waving his arm like a little boy who needs permission to use the bathroom.
“We need more butter, miss.”
“Right away!” Rita says.
She scoots into the kitchen. Ceepak watches her fly through the swinging double doors. I look down and check out T. J.'s postcard. Naturally it reminds me of the one Mary Guarneri sent
“Let's recap. What do we have thus far?” he asks rhetorically as he flips his evidence photographs down on the table like Uno cards. “The two jars left at the museum. The name Ruth written on the one label-the same name Mary Guarneri used on her postcard home to her mother. The Lisa earring.” He flips down another Polaroid. “We also have the museum guest book.”
“We should check all those names-the people who came in before the Pepper family.”
“Roger that.” He flips down two more pictures. “We have Cap'n Pete's treasure: the milk carton and Mary's charm bracelet.”
“Yeah. Guess she lost it before she changed her name.”
Ceepak agrees. Taps the “Mary” charm.
“What's that?”
Rita has come out of the kitchen with a big bowl of melted butter for the heart-attack-waiting-to-happen over at table fifteen. She's staring at the charm bracelet picture.
Ceepak deftly flips over the more gruesome photos.
“A charm bracelet Captain Pete found buried in the sand.”
Rita looks surprised. “He actually found something?”
Ceepak nods. “On Oak Beach. Close to where I found the high-school ring.”
Rita leans down for a closer look.
“Cool,” she says. She focuses on the tiny doodads strung along the chain. “I had a kitten charm like that….”
“Miss?” Tubby at table fifteen must smell his butter.
Rita taps the picture.
“I had that one, too,” she says.
“Which one?” asks Ceepak.
“The church,” she says. “Reverend Billy gave it to me.”
