Alexa’s phone pinged with two texts as she was in the line at Commune to get a coffee and a crepe on Saturday, just past noon. Then her phone rang.
There were three people ahead of Alexa in line so she answered. It was Hannah, her coworker at the Cottage.
“Hey, Amazon!” said Hannah, and Alexa rolled her eyes. If this was about getting Alexa to work that day, no thank you, she wasn’t interested.
“I can’t switch shifts,” she said preemptively, combatively.
“Calm down, Amazon. That’s not why I’m calling.” Hannah was chewing gum, loudly and right into the phone. If there was one thing Alexa couldn’t abide, and there were many, it was gum chewers. If you needed to cleanse your breath and your toothbrush wasn’t near, try a mint. “I just wanted to let you know that some guy was looking for you today.”
“Some guy?” Alexa’s hands tightened around the phone. Despite the generous air-conditioning in Commune, she began to feel warm.The bad men are coming.
“I told him you were off.”
“What guy? Tyler?” She hadn’t had any contact with Tyler since the night of the Yankee Homecoming fireworks.
“No!” said Hannah. “I’d recognize Tyler. Duh?”
“Cam, maybe?”
“Who’s Cam?”
Alexa didn’t feel like going into the whole story of her romantic entanglements just now so she ignored Hannah’s question. “Was he wearing either golf clothes or St. Michael’s College spirit wear? Was he smiling like a really big and enthusiastic smile?”
“Let me see.” Hannah chewed her gum thoughtfully, right in Alexa’s ear. Alexa held the phone a little bit away and rolled her eyes. “What specifically are golf clothes?”
“Khakis,” said Alexa. “Golf shirt. Visor?”
“No, he wasn’t wearing golf clothes. And he wasn’t wearing spirit wear.” There was an irritating pause while Hannah thought some more. “He definitely wasn’t smiling. He was pretty serious.” Alexa’s mouth was dry now.Bad men would be serious.She headed for the tiny water cups that were lined up on a shelf running along the side of the shop. Murderers would be serious. Mob guys would be serious. She tucked the phone under her ear while she picked up the water pitcher to fill a cup. “How old is Cam?” asked Hannah.
“Nineteen,” said Alexa. “No, wait, twenty.” Her hands were shaking so that when she put the pitcher back down, some of the water sloshed out. She knocked back the water, threw away the tiny cup, and resumed her place in line, her heart hammering all the while.
“Oh, this guy was way older. Forty? Forty-five? I don’t know, it’s hard to tell, anyone between forty and sixty looks the same to me.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Alexa was trying to downplay her concern, but she was getting really nervous. How old were gangsters, typically?
The person ahead of her had a credit card out, ready to slip into the machine.
“Anyway, he was older,” continued Hannah. “I saw him get into a black SUV.”
“A black SUV?” Panic began to drip into Alexa’s bloodstream—a slow, ominous panic. “What kind of black SUV?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Hannah. “I’m not really a car person. Have you seen what I drive?”
“No,” Alexa said irritably.
“It’s really old. I bet you couldn’t even guess what it is if you tried.”
Alexa was absolutely definitely not going to try. “You didn’t mention my last name, did you?”
“I didn’t have to.”
Alexa’s heart was in her throat. No, higher: in her mouth. “Why not?” The drip of panic had become a flood.
“He already knew it.”
“He knew my last name?”
“How would he be looking for you if he didn’t know your name? I kinda have to go, Alexa, we’re getting a line and I’m like totally hiding around the back and Lori is looking for me—”
