It was still early, and not much on or just off Duval Street opened early, except for the chain drugstore, coffee shops and an Internet café. But David knew that the ice-cream shop would be getting ready to open, and it might be the best time to talk to Danny.
When he reached the shop, David could see Danny inside, wiping down one of the milk-shake machines. He rapped on the glass. Danny looked up and over at him, and a broad smile lit up his face. He hurried to the door. David heard the locks being sprung, and then the door opened.
“David Beckett! I heard you were headed back into town. Man, how are you! It’s so damned cool to see you!” Danny declared. His enthusiasm seemed real, and he gave David a hug and stepped back. “Damn, man, and you are looking good!”
Danny was eternally thin. His brown hair, long and worn in a queue at his nape, was now beginning to show threads of gray. His face was pockmarked from a now preventable childhood illness and his features were lean. His eyes, however, were a warm brown, and he did well with people. He excelled at telling stories, and he’d been a wonderful guide years ago, when he had worked at the museum. David wondered if Danny’s life hadn’t been altered by the events at the museum, as well.
“Thanks, Danny,” David said. “So how are you doing?”
Danny shrugged, wiping his hands on the white apron he wore over his jeans and a Metallica tee. “I can’t complain, can’t complain. They’re getting more and more letters on what a great ‘ghost host’ I am for the weekend tours and, hey-I can have all the free ice cream I want. I have a sunset every night, and saltwater and sand between my toes.” He frowned. “Hey, there’s a rumor that you’re refusing to sell the museum to Katie O’Hara. Is that true?”
David nodded. “I’m sorry, Danny.”
“Your museum, your call.”
“It’s not actually my museum. I do have the major interest, but my grandfather left Liam and me in charge of his estate. We have to agree on everything, and I just don’t agree with reopening that place.”
“I understand, man.”
“I’m sorry, Danny. You were the best guide known to man.”
“No skin off my nose, David. Seriously. I just live, and I get by, and that’s what makes me happy,” Danny assured him. “Katie would have done a good job, though. She’s a great little go-getter, good businesswoman. But you know her, right?”
“She was a kid when I left.”
“Hey, we were all kids when you left. So, where have you been? They said you became some kind of a big-shot photographer. A photojournalist.”
“I’m not sure if I’m a big shot. I make a decent living,” David told him.
“I’m sorry you missed Craig’s funeral,” Danny said.
“I saw him when he was alive. He was always the mainstay of my life,” David told him.
“You been to the grave site?”
“Not yet.”
Danny obviously disapproved of that fact, but he didn’t say so. He asked, “So how long do you plan on staying around?”
“I’m not sure yet. I haven’t made any commitments for the near future. We’ll see. Tell me how you’ve been, Danny.”
“Me? I’m fine. I don’t need a lot. Just enough to survive and enjoy myself.”
“Still never married? Is there a special girl?”
Danny laughed. “Well, I know several girls who are special. Girls I like, and girls I see. But they’re not the kind you bring home to Mom, you know what I mean? But, hey, I know the scoop around here. I’m just looking for fun, and they’re just looking for a few bucks. It’s cool, it’s the way I want it.”
“Sure.”
“No commitments, and that’s the way I like it. Don’t be feeling sorry for me, I’m a happy man. Really.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Danny looked at him thoughtfully. “So, what are you up to?”
“Settling affairs.”
“Of course. Hey, I have one of the ghost tours Saturday night. You should come. I’m in rare form, and I really do a good job.”
“Maybe I will.”
Danny hesitated again. He winced. “You know, they usually do mention Tanya now in the tours. They say that she’s a ghost, and that she haunts the museum house.”
“And you tell the story, too, right?” David asked.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said.
“If you’re doing a ghost tour, I’m assuming it makes a good story, and it’s not your fault,” David assured him.
Danny looked around awkwardly for a moment. “Hey, you want some ice cream?”
David shook his head. “No, thanks, Danny. You know, you said that you retell the story on your tours. What do you say?”
Danny looked pale suddenly. “I-I-”
“You say that I was under suspicion, right?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” He was lying; he was lying out of kindness, so it seemed.
“Do you remember what really happened?” David asked.
“What do you mean, what really happened? I wasn’t working either day. You were working for me, don’t you remember?”
“Of course, I remember that. But what do you remember?”
“Not much, man.”