Page 111 of The House Beyond the Dunes

“I don’t think so. Rumor has it he has a shattered kneecap. And like I said, she was last seen with Iverson,” I say honestly. “Thanks, ladies. Call Joey’s if you hear from Nikki.”

As I turn and walk away, Delores says, “If you vanish, who comes looking for you?”

I shake my head. “Who knows, Nikki might’ve asked questions and looked for me. She’s that kind of person.”

When I arrive at Joey’s, it’s nearly nine and not super busy. There are a half dozen folks huddled over their drinks, but most of the table rounds are empty. Joey’s pushing through the swinging door with a rack of clean glasses as I’m wrapping my apron around my waist.

He glances in my direction but keeps moving. Glasses rattle when he sets them on the bar. “Glad you could join us.”

“Running late.” I make it a habit not to apologize.

He looks around the thinning crowd. “Doesn’t look like I’m going to need you tonight.”

Some nights are slow even in midsummer. Hot, raining, traffic, or folks are just burning out toward the end of vacation week. The tips will be lean.

“Go home and sleep,” he says.

It’s too early to curl up in the back of my car. “Sleep and I have a passing acquaintance.” I walk around the bar and wash my hands.

“Do you ever listen to me?” Joey growls.

“I listen.” I toss him a rare genuine smile.

“Any luck with Nikki?” he asks.

“Vanished off the face of the earth.”

“What about the cops?”

“Sully is asking around.”

Joey nods. “He said that he would. He’s a good guy.”

“What’s his story?”

“Military police for fifteen years. Finally decided he’d had enough and didn’t reenlist. Working construction with his brother part-time now.”

I refill a bowl with peanuts. “Nikki was nice to me.”

“She was nice to everyone.”

Was that supposed to make me feel less special? “All the more reason to find her.”

“Keep at it. Stick with Sully.”

“Speaking of help, I told a couple of girls who work around here to call the bar if they hear anything.”

“Seriously?” Joey’s expression is a blend of shock and annoyance. “Am I the tip line now?”

“You’re lucky I don’t have a picture of Nikki. I’d have made flyers, and your phone would’ve been ringing off the hook.”

“You’re going to break me,” he mutters.

The futility of my search grows by the hour. I know searching for her is as much about me as her. Someone needs to care. Someone needs to sound the alarm bell. The problem is, both Nikki and I are running out of time.

A customer catches my eye and holds up an empty mug. I refill it for him. The phone rings, and before Joey can grab it, I do. “Tip line.”

“Is Joey there? This is his sister.”

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