Fourteen
“You sure you don’t want to call her?”
“Call who?”
We’re back at Dane’s friend’s house, and Dane and Miguel are sprawled out across from each other on the identical sofas while I rest next to the vent, where the cool air streams at my face.
“You know I’m not talking about Riley. Though we could call her, too.” Dane grins as he looks up from his laptop, which is connected to a couple of cables that lead to the wall. “I’m talking about JMB’s sis, chief. Remember, she gave you her digits? She can tell us who this Vik dude is, because so far, I can’t find anything online. Though I guess not everyone has a Friendster profile. And without a last name to go on, I can’t scour my usual databases.”
“Given how tight-lipped she was earlier, I don’t think Fiona’s going to suddenly give us a list of her brother’s trusted contacts,” Miguel says.
“Eh, maybe she would. She likes you.”
“She was being nice, Dane.”
“How come she wasn’t that nice to me, then?”
Miguel rolls his eyes. “Because you’re a doofus.”
“You say that like it’s an insult,” says Dane. “Still, if you’re going to call names, I’d rather be known as Lakeside’s idiot savant.”
Miguel’s trying so hard not to laugh that it escapes like a cough. “Consider it done,” he says, hitting his chest with his fist. “But only because you’ve gotten us this far.”
“Yeah, I have.” Dane pulls his laptop closed. “Wanna check out the bookstore everyone says Mr. Future Pulitzer likes before we find some grub? Maybe someone there will know who Vik is.”
“I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
Dare I trust my ears? Miguel always wanted to visit the local bookstores first when we traveled. And even though he didn’t have to, he often left with a big bag of books. This is an excellent development.
“Sweet. We’ll have to drive over there, since my guy Harold can’t take the L with us, and he probably doesn’t need to keep baking in this heat.”
“I’m up for driving, but we should leave Harold behind. Most bookstores don’t allow dogs inside.”
“You said you were worried about him dropping a pile on the floor here.”
“I was just saying that to get out of dinner.”
“Sharing the trade secrets! I feel special,” says Dane, mussing up his hair.
“Don’t.” Miguel sighs loudly. “Well, Harold, this is more action than you’ll probably get again in this lifetime—but it sounds like you’re coming with us.”
I do wish he wouldn’t talk like that. Of course I’m notexcited about heading to the big doghouse in the sky. But I’m far more worried about time—and geography. If Miguel won’t evencallFiona while we’re here, how will I ever get them together?
We pile into the car and drive across town. After enough circling the block to make me worry my kibble’s going to come back up, Miguel finds a parking spot down the street from the bookstore.
The bookstore’s smaller than ours by a lot and has a blue awning and a narrow glass door. I don’t go inside—as Miguel suspected, this shop isn’t dog-friendly—but Dane waits with me. It hasn’t cooled much since earlier, so we shelter under the awning, and he lets me drink straight from his water bottle to keep from overheating. When Miguel emerges fifteen minutes later, he’s carrying a plastic bag with a distinctly rectangular bulge. Is it? Could itbe?
But yes: The man has purchased at least one book, and maybe even several! Oh, I’m so happy I could chase my own backside. If the only thing he leaves with is a reignited interest in reading, this trip won’t have been a complete waste.
“Whoa,” says Dane. “You trying to put yourself out of business?” Seeing Miguel’s face fall, he quickly adds, “I’m just kidding, chief. You know there’s no such thing as too many books.”
“Thereissuch a thing as too little money, though,” says Miguel, frowning. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. It’s long and thin, like the paper that our cash register spits out. He waves it at Dane. “I do have some good news.”
“They gave you Vik’s number!”
“No, but almost as good. I have his full name.”
Dane lifts his hand to high-five Miguel, who hesitates but then slaps his palm against Dane’s. “How do you feel about sushi, chief?”
