Page 4 of Dead Men Tell No Shells

The bell over the door jingled again as Ricky walked in from next door, glanced around, spotted me, and immediately headed in my direction.

Harbor Lights Salon shared a wall with Dixie’s, which meant there was a constant migration between the two businesses. Customers came into the diner for coffee and wandered next door for haircuts. People waiting for appointments came over for lunch. Employees wandered back and forth whenever there was a gap in their schedules. Ricky had apparently found such a gap in his schedule for today.

He slid into the booth beside me without asking, forcing me to move over.

“Morning.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he said cheerfully.

“You’re supposed to be working.”

“I have twenty minutes.”

“You’ve already wasted thirty seconds.”

“Then I have nineteen and a half.”

He looked at June. “Coffee?”

“You have a cup and a machine next door.”

His mouth made a moue of disgust. “That’s salon coffee.”

“And?”

“It’s salon coffee,” he emphasised.

June shook her head, got up to fetch him a cup, and poured him one anyway.

Ricky accepted it with a pleased smile. “So,” he said.

“No.”

“I haven’t asked anything yet.”

“You were going to.”

“I was.”

I took another drink of coffee. “Then no.”

Ricky looked at June. “He’s cranky.”

“He’s had a morning.”

“His mother called?”

I stared at him as June laughed.

“See?” she said.

“It’s a small town,” Ricky said, as though that explained everything. It did, and in this case, in an unfortunate way for me. “Everyone knows Josiah’s back,” he continued.

“I gathered that, seeing as how most of them voted for him and all.”

“And everyone remembers you two.”

“I was hoping time had erased some things.”