“Since you can’t make our weekly breakfast date, I brought the food to you.” Amy slapped a bag from Diamond Lille’s on the front counter of the shop. “You can thank me by making me a large mocha with an extra shot before you sit down to eat.”
The smell of gooey omelets and salty hash browns made my stomach growl. I quickly made Amy her drink, then glanced at the door to make sure I didn’t have an incoming customer. Aunt Jackie had mentioned that the Sunday early shift was slow, but this was glacial. I made a mental note to discuss changing hours for the day until the summer tourist season started. “Thanks for the grub. I figured you’d be checking out surfing spots with Justin this morning.”
Amy shrugged and looked down at her cup.
“Whoa. Is there a problem with you and Justin?” I slipped onto a stool and pulled out the Styrofoam cartons that held our breakfasts. Three-egg Denver omelet for Amy and a mushroom and Swiss for me. Both had a generous side of hash browns tucked in next to the eggs. Steam rose when I opened the lid. I guess after being friends for over five years, the girl could order for me as easily as herself. I dug my fork into the cheesy delight and almost groaned when the flavors hit my tongue.
Amy picked a lone piece of ham off the top of her omelet and stared at it like she couldn’t recognize the type of meat she held. Finally she shook her head and popped the cube into her mouth. “He’s been a little jumpy lately since he found Kent’s body. I think he’s staying home this weekend and cleaning his apartment.”
That got my attention. According to Amy, Justin’s apartment looked like the typical campus bachelor pad, filled with pizza boxes and half-consumed sodas. Justin had said life was too short to worry about cleaning a place where he slept and showered. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s not every day you find a dead body.”
She picked up her fork. “I guess. It’s just this isn’t the Justin I knew. I thought he was beginning to think about something more between us. I mean, he took me to meet his parents for Christmas. Now I can barely get him to answer a text.”
I’d remembered the holiday incident. I’d thought Amy was going to have a nervous breakdown when she thought Justin was even thinking of them as a couple. Now she was worried that the relationship was over. I had to get her thinking of something else. Then a plan came to me. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Washing my hair, arranging my closet, maybe reading a book, if I can get my mind to focus. Why?” Amy picked at her hash browns, discarding a bite as too burnt when really it was only crunchy and delicious.
I filled her in on Pat’s visit yesterday and the mystery model’s Facebook page I’d found. When I finished, I realized I’d also finished the omelet, so I took the last bite of potatoes and cleaned up my spot. “So, come talk to her with me.”
“How do you expect to find her? People don’t leave their home address on their Facebook pages. Or at least if they’re smart they don’t.” Amy closed up her own container with the omelet half-eaten and threw the rest into the trash.
I smiled. “I didn’t need her to leave her address. I have a phone book.” I held the local phone book up for her to see. “And they still list addresses in the white pages. How stupid is that?”
I opened the book and found the name on the page. Baker, Thomas and Evelyn. “They live in Bakerstown. Want to come with me on a short road trip?”
Amy eyed me suspiciously. “What does Greg say about this?”
Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. I went back behind the counter and started restocking the cup supply.
“Jill?” Amy’s voice was hard. “You have told Greg what Pat said, right?”
I threw the empty cup box into the trash. “Which part? The part where she says Sherry’s trying to get him back? Or about Kent’s other girlfriends?”
“Greg’s not going anywhere, you know that.” Amy put her hand on mine. “You do know he’s crazy about you, right?”
“Aunt Jackie said it yesterday, ex-wife trumps new girlfriend.” I pushed back the tears I’d been carrying around all morning. I’d woken up from a bad dream early that morning, and not even a fast-paced run with Emma on our favorite stretch of beach had calmed my nerves.
“In death, not in real life.” Amy fell silent for a minute. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.” I wiped the back of my hand over my eyes, feeling stupid for letting my fear show.
“Hold on. I’m not done.” Amy swung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll go with you, if you tell Greg everything before we leave. I don’t care if it’s by voice mail or snail-mail letter. I’d feel better if someone knew where we were going before we disappeared.”