SPECTOR RISES, Chapter 1
Lieutenant Boone always feels excited when he takes the burner phone from its hiding place but this time could be really big. Lots more cash than he earned advising the local drug ring before it got busted by the goddamned psychics. The phone rings and he answers with a cheery hello. A male voice snaps, “Facts only. Keep it brief.”
“Uh, Halloween, 5p.m. Rosalita’s restaurant with a date. It’ll be dark when he returns. Four police checkpoints around town.” He lists where his fellow officers will be posted.
Boone waits a moment before realizing the caller hung up.
* * *
Joe Spector always feels excited before first dates but this one could be really big. Aiden is the most beautiful woman he’s ever known in person much less talked to. And now they might be business partners. But his mind’s not on business now.
On the lumpy single-bed in Mike’s extra bedroom, he lays out his best clothes, which ain’t saying much, and tells himself, “It’s just a friend-date.” As Aiden reminded, she’s still married and isn’t sure she’ll divorce her husband. Still, she said she liked Joe. So there’s that.
Since it’s Halloween Aiden insisted on costumes. Begrudgingly, Joe takes from the closet his black cowboy hat which he hasn’t worn in years. Joe mutters, “Halloween? Shit.”
He flashes back to Cliff, his mother’s boyfriend who, just for laughs, crushed his five-year-old cowboy hat. He hid under the bed letting bites of tootsie rolls melt in his mouth as his mother’s latest drunken brawl raged. The next day, as she’d done before, Mama handed him a wrinkled paper sack holding his few clothes and said, “Don’t tell’m what happened. ‘kay?”
The boy glanced at his Mama’s battered face and nodded. “I’ll be back,” she promised. Walking the half-mile to his grandparents’ farm, he didn’t know it but he’d never see her again.
As he carefully shaves in the mottled bathroom mirror, Joe remembers Sara. His college girlfriend, the first woman he loved, preferred he grow a beard. She dumped him for a clean-shaven up-and-comer and he floundered through his last semester. Worst grades he ever got.
In the shower, Joe recalls the last time he got laid. Maria in the shower at his old duplex. She was as hot as the spicy Colombian aji she served that one time he went to her home.
Finally ready, he makes an appearance in the living room where Mike waits.
The big man crows, “Holy moly, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
As the big man grunts getting up from his old recliner, Joe asks, “It’s not too much?”
“Shootfire no! It’s Halloween and you know Aiden’ll be all dolled up.”
Though Joe could walk the short distance, Mike drives him to Thee Orb just down One Lane. The young man exits the big man’s truck wearing black jeans, a black sport coat, black boots, and his best mostly-white shirt. As he puts on his hat, Aiden swings opens the porch door. Joe’s surprised at the black wig and wowed when she strikes a pose in black slacks, white ruffled shirt, black jacket, black boots, and black gaucho hat. “Feliz Halloween!” she calls out.
After all the photos Beverly insists be taken, Aiden’s mom reminds, “Thomas Cleary is coming for a reading tomorrow morning. I hope you’ll join us.” Joe assures her that he will.
Surprisingly, Aiden hands Joe the keys to her white Mercedes convertible. He opens the door for her before happily climbing in behind the wheel. As he checks mirrors and controls, she connects her phone. Driving down One Lane the Beatles sing, Help, I need somebodyTrick-or-treaters traipsing along small-town sidewalks never saw such a sight.
Half hour later, all eyes are on the couple as they enter the restaurant tucked on the edge of a strip mall. Despite it’s faded south-of-the-border motif, Mike swears the tired old former family diner has the best food in town. The mariachi band members stop setting up to cheer and wolf-whistle.
Aiden pulls reluctant Joe by the hand, flashes her dazzling smile, and asks something in Spanish. The guitarist replies, “Sí, tocaremos Beatles si tú y el vaquero bailan.”
After they order drinks, Joe asks, “So, what’s up with you and the band?”
She says, “I asked if they play the Beatles. He said, yes, if the cowboy and I dance.”
He blinks a few times. “I have to dance?” She gives him that what-the-hell’s-wrong-with-you glare so Joe grins like he was just joking and accepts his fate.
With the band ready, the guitarist calls out, “Welcome to Rosalita on a Halloween. We are Mariachi Carolina an’ is our pleasure to play tonigh’.” They start with Guantanamera.
Joe suggests, “How about we dance after we order.” His sweet iced tea in a plastic glass, her green margarita in a vessel big enough to drown a toad, and excellent chips and salsa rapidly arrive. She orders carnitas. Joe gets Mike’s favorite, cabra birria tacos.
When the band finishes their first song, Aiden quickly tugs the embarrassed cowboy to the dance floor. She drops a twenty in the tip jar and makes a request.
The guitarist says, “Folk, we gotta repor’ a crime. Yeah, we been bribe an’, well, it work ever’time. We got a especial reques’ from a guapita vaquera and a gringo cowboy. Ella Te Ama.”
The band plays a slow version of She Loves You. Holding Aiden in his arms, Joe recalls his prom date with Josie Stafford, the girl with the biggest boobs in senior class. This time, the head on his shoulders keeps telling Mr. Happy to keep his head south of the border. When the song ends and everyone in Rosalita’s cheers, Aiden bows as Joe shuffles to the booth where their food awaits.
Both agree their meals are excelente. Aiden says, “Joe, I’ve been wanting to ask something. How do you feel about all this psychic stuff you and Mama are into?”
With a mouthful of goat taco, he mumbles, “You first.”
Aiden explains how, in high school, she refused to read Grandmother Rosemary’s paranormal, post-apocalyptic novel, Thee Orb. And she never felt comfortable about her Mama’s psychic inclinations. “I know the book made them a lot of money and, yes, there are some locals who swear by Mama’s readings. But, uh…, it just doesn’t feel Christian to me.” Pause. “So what about you, Joe?”
“I can relate,” he starts. “I mean, I never bought into woo-woo voodoo doo-doo either because my mother used to pretend she was psychic. You know, palm reading, tarot cards. I saw her use coffee grounds once. Anything for a buck. She called it ‘easy money from dumbasses.’”
Aiden says, “I thought you were raised by your Grandpa Rich.”
“Yeah, I was. Mom left me with her parents when I was five. We never heard from her again. Then, a few months later, Grandma Ruth died. So… it was just me and him.”
“Damn,” Aiden starts. “Daddy died when I was twelve but I mean…, damn, Joe.” She squeezes his hand. “Five years old?”
“Ah. Stuff happens for a reason, right? I mean, I hadn’t even been to kindergarten because Mom kept us moving around so much. But, I tell ya, one thing. Grandpa Rich made damn sure I went to school. Even insisted on college.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go? And what did you study?”
He chuckles lightly. “Well, Lincoln State’s kinda different. Besides academics, it’s also an active farm. That I liked. My senior year Grandpa Rich could only afford one semester so I worked a semester to pay for the next. That’s how I learned to roast coffee. Anyhow, unlike you who got a degree you can use and a spouse, I doubled-majored in Philosophy and heartbreak.”
“Aw.” Aiden frowns. “Heartbreak?”
“Yep. Since I was on the five-year plan, my college girlfriend graduated a year before me, found herself another guy, and c'est la vie.”
After a moment, she suggests, “Surely you dated other women since then.”
“Oh, I had lots of one-date-wonders.” Joe smirks. “You know, go on a date and then wonder why the hell you wasted your time.”
She chuckles. “But come on.” Pause. “As cute as you are…, nothing serious?”
Feeling suddenly studly, he admits, “I had some, uh, short-term relationships but nothing that lasted. Including Maria who’s the reason I met your mom.” Joe sighs. “Anyhow, what your mom does, and now me? It does seem to help people. So I'm okay with that.”
After their meal, he requests two orders of conchas. “One now and an extra order for Mike,” he explains. Joe thankfully pays the bill. As they munch on vanilla and chocolate topped sweet breads, Aiden asks, “Has Mike said anything to you about Two Goats?”
“No.” Pause. “Is there something I should know?”
She coyly replies, “Nothing you won’t know soon enough.”
Joe pulls out a twenty and asks, “How about another dance before we go?” He puts the bill in the tip jar and speaks to the guitarist—English this time—who translates to his bandmates.
As they begin a mariachi version of Across the Universe, Joe takes Aiden in his arms again and relishes one last slow dance. This time, Mr. Happy behaves himself.
Outside Rosalita’s, he raises the top on her Mercedes as she selects another song. They leave listening to I’m Happy Just to Dance with You. Just down the road, a police checkpoint awaits. She lowers the music as Captain Tim Ashe greets them.
Joe says, “I cannot believe the chief has his captain out on a holiday.”
“All hands on deck,” Tim says. “The chief’s even out tonight since Lieutenant Boone is under the weather.”
Joe’s intuition tingles. “Oh? Um..., sorry to hear that.”
“And I’m sorry, I have to ask. Have you had any alcohol?”
Joe says, “Iced tea for me but she had a margarita so you might need to arrest her.”
She slaps his arm. “Stop it.” Then Aiden asks, “Does your wife like our coffee samples?”
Tim laughs and says, “She loves ‘em! Y’all drive carefully.”
“Hold on.” Joe opens the bag and asks, “Concha?”
With the police captain happily satisfied, he drives on. When his phone pings, Joe takes a quick look. It’s a message from Linda. New neighbor said two insurance guys stopped by asking about you last night. You okay?
He tells Aiden it’s his former neighbor and dictates a response. “I’m fine. Insurance guys might be about the fire to my business. Did they leave contact info?” As he turns onto the two lane, it pings again. Her message reads: Left cards, Fairfax Insurance, Ben Jones, Mitch Dover. Joe realizes those are the names of the fake reporters the police chief told him about.
Aiden asks, “Everything okay?”
“I hope so.” Soon they stop at another checkpoint. Joe lowers the window and says, “Sergeant Lucas, you want to know if I’ve been drinking alcohol, correct?”
Larry chuckles. “You’re the psychic. Looks like you folks’ve been out on the town.”
“Yes, sir. Just coming from Rosalita’s where I drank iced tea. This is Beverly Ford’s daughter, Aiden, but I’m not supposed to tell you she had a margarita.” She pops him again.
The sergeant says, “Her readings must have been a real blessing to you, Ms. Ford, like they were to me and my wife.”
She corrects, “It’s Mrs. Grogan now. Mr. Spector and I are working on a business deal.”
Joe offers him a concha and they drive away. Aiden asks, “Does everyone around here know about you psychics?”
He sighs. “Hopefully just the ones that matter.”
“Sometime I’d like you to tell me what it’s like. You know, when you do a reading.”
Joe grins. “I can tell you now. It’s like taking a nap. I have no idea what comes through unless someone tells me or I hear a recording.”
Aiden shrugs, touches her phone, and the Beatles sing If I Fell in Love with You. Light rain falls from the darkened sky.
After parking at Thee Orb, Joe holds his coat over their heads as they walk through the dark yard past the fallow garden beds and quiet chicken coop.
At the cabin door, she asks, “Trick? Or treat?”
Joe sighs. “Aiden, I’ve had way too many tricks lately. So how about a treat?”
She opens the door, enters, and pulls him inside. As she fiddles with her phone, Aiden says, “Random question. Do you close your eyes when you kiss?”
“Uh—” Joe’s eyes grow wide. “Well…, yeah. I think so.”
“Okay. Close your eyes.” Her phone plays All My Loving as she kisses him… much longer than she meant to. Finally, Aiden pulls away. “Oh. Gosh. Sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“No! No,” he interrupts. “I work for the CIA now so I promise to keep it top secret. But I tell you, Aiden, that treat was some kind of trick.”
She chuckles. “You are a mess, Joe Spector. But a good one.” She takes a deep breath. “So, sunrise in the barn to milk goats?” Smiling, he nods. She says, “Thanks. I needed tonight.”
Still smiling, he admits, “Me too. This one date wonder was wonderful.”
He declines her offer of a pink umbrella but agrees to text her when he gets to Two Goats.
While humming the tune to All My Loving, Aiden takes off her outfit, washes makeup off her face, and slips into a sweatsuit. Checking her phone, she notes no text and thinks, “I bet he stopped at Mama’s to read Rich to sleep.” She decides to see him one last time tonight.
Under her pink umbrella, she trots through steady rain toward the warm light of Thee Orb. Aiden sees her Mama in the kitchen window. She enters and starts to slip off her wet shoes.
“Hey, sweetie,” Beverly starts. “Did you kids have fun?”
“Sure. Didn’t Joe tell you?” Aiden notes her Mama’s puzzled expression and freezes. “He's not here?”
“I saw you drive up but he didn’t—” Beverly gasps. “Oh. my God.”
* * *
Boone gets the hoped-for text. $ drop usual spot.
SPECTOR RISES, Chapter 1 Lieutenant Boone always feels excited when he takes the burner phone from its hiding place but this time could be really big. Lots more cash than he earned advising the local drug ring before it got busted by the goddamned psychics. The phone rings and he answers with a cheery hello. A male voice snaps, “Facts only. Keep it brief.” “Uh, Halloween, 5p.m. Rosalita’s restaurant with a date. It’ll be dark when he returns. Four police checkpoints around town.” He lists where his fellow officers will be posted. Boone waits a moment before realizing the caller hung up. * * * Joe Spector always feels excited before first dates but this one could be really big. Aiden is the most beautiful woman he’s ever known in person much less talked to. And now they might be business partners. But his mind’s not on business now. On the lumpy single-bed in Mike’s extra bedroom, he lays out his best clothes, which ain’t saying much, and tells himself, “It’s just a friend-date.” As Aiden reminded, she’s still married and isn’t sure she’ll divorce her husband. Still, she said she liked Joe. So there’s that. Since it’s Halloween Aiden insisted on costumes. Begrudgingly, Joe takes from the closet his black cowboy hat which he hasn’t worn in years. Joe mutters, “Halloween? Shit.” He flashes back to Cliff, his mother’s boyfriend who, just for laughs, crushed his five-year-old cowboy hat. He hid under the bed letting bites of tootsie rolls melt in his mouth as his mother’s latest drunken brawl raged. The next day, as she’d done before, Mama handed him a wrinkled paper sack holding his few clothes and said, “Don’t tell’m what happened. ‘kay?” The boy glanced at his Mama’s battered face and nodded. “I’ll be back,” she promised. Walking the half-mile to his grandparents’ farm, he didn’t know it but he’d never see her again. As he carefully shaves in the mottled bathroom mirror, Joe remembers Sara. His college girlfriend, the first woman he loved, preferred he grow a beard. She dumped him for a clean-shaven up-and-comer and he floundered through his last semester. Worst grades he ever got. In the shower, Joe recalls the last time he got laid. Maria in the shower at his old duplex. She was as hot as the spicy Colombian aji she served that one time he went to her home. Finally ready, he makes an appearance in the living room where Mike waits. The big man crows, “Holy moly, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” As the big man grunts getting up from his old recliner, Joe asks, “It’s not too much?” “Shootfire no! It’s Halloween and you know Aiden’ll be all dolled up.” Though Joe could walk the short distance, Mike drives him to Thee Orb just down One Lane. The young man exits the big man’s truck wearing black jeans, a black sport coat, black boots, and his best mostly-white shirt. As he puts on his hat, Aiden swings opens the porch door. Joe’s surprised at the black wig and wowed when she strikes a pose in black slacks, white ruffled shirt, black jacket, black boots, and black gaucho hat. “Feliz Halloween!” she calls out. After all the photos Beverly insists be taken, Aiden’s mom reminds, “Thomas Cleary is coming for a reading tomorrow morning. I hope you’ll join us.” Joe assures her that he will. Surprisingly, Aiden hands Joe the keys to her white Mercedes convertible. He opens the door for her before happily climbing in behind the wheel. As he checks mirrors and controls, she connects her phone. Driving down One Lane the Beatles sing, Help, I need somebodyTrick-or-treaters traipsing along small-town sidewalks never saw such a sight. Half hour later, all eyes are on the couple as they enter the restaurant tucked on the edge of a strip mall. Despite it’s faded south-of-the-border motif, Mike swears the tired old former family diner has the best food in town. The mariachi band members stop setting up to cheer and wolf-whistle. Aiden pulls reluctant Joe by the hand, flashes her dazzling smile, and asks something in Spanish. The guitarist replies, “Sí, tocaremos Beatles si tú y el vaquero bailan.” After they order drinks, Joe asks, “So, what’s up with you and the band?” She says, “I asked if they play the Beatles. He said, yes, if the cowboy and I dance.” He blinks a few times. “I have to dance?” She gives him that what-the-hell’s-wrong-with-you glare so Joe grins like he was just joking and accepts his fate. With the band ready, the guitarist calls out, “Welcome to Rosalita on a Halloween. We are Mariachi Carolina an’ is our pleasure to play tonigh’.” They start with Guantanamera. Joe suggests, “How about we dance after we order.” His sweet iced tea in a plastic glass, her green margarita in a vessel big enough to drown a toad, and excellent chips and salsa rapidly arrive. She orders carnitas. Joe gets Mike’s favorite, cabra birria tacos. When the band finishes their first song, Aiden quickly tugs the embarrassed cowboy to the dance floor. She drops a twenty in the tip jar and makes a request. The guitarist says, “Folk, we gotta repor’ a crime. Yeah, we been bribe an’, well, it work ever’time. We got a especial reques’ from a guapita vaquera and a gringo cowboy. Ella Te Ama.” The band plays a slow version of She Loves You. Holding Aiden in his arms, Joe recalls his prom date with Josie Stafford, the girl with the biggest boobs in senior class. This time, the head on his shoulders keeps telling Mr. Happy to keep his head south of the border. When the song ends and everyone in Rosalita’s cheers, Aiden bows as Joe shuffles to the booth where their food awaits. Both agree their meals are excelente. Aiden says, “Joe, I’ve been wanting to ask something. How do you feel about all this psychic stuff you and Mama are into?” With a mouthful of goat taco, he mumbles, “You first.” Aiden explains how, in high school, she refused to read Grandmother Rosemary’s paranormal, post-apocalyptic novel, Thee Orb. And she never felt comfortable about her Mama’s psychic inclinations. “I know the book made them a lot of money and, yes, there are some locals who swear by Mama’s readings. But, uh…, it just doesn’t feel Christian to me.” Pause. “So what about you, Joe?” “I can relate,” he starts. “I mean, I never bought into woo-woo voodoo doo-doo either because my mother used to pretend she was psychic. You know, palm reading, tarot cards. I saw her use coffee grounds once. Anything for a buck. She called it ‘easy money from dumbasses.’” Aiden says, “I thought you were raised by your Grandpa Rich.” “Yeah, I was. Mom left me with her parents when I was five. We never heard from her again. Then, a few months later, Grandma Ruth died. So… it was just me and him.” “Damn,” Aiden starts. “Daddy died when I was twelve but I mean…, damn, Joe.” She squeezes his hand. “Five years old?” “Ah. Stuff happens for a reason, right? I mean, I hadn’t even been to kindergarten because Mom kept us moving around so much. But, I tell ya, one thing. Grandpa Rich made damn sure I went to school. Even insisted on college.” “Oh yeah? Where’d you go? And what did you study?” He chuckles lightly. “Well, Lincoln State’s kinda different. Besides academics, it’s also an active farm. That I liked. My senior year Grandpa Rich could only afford one semester so I worked a semester to pay for the next. That’s how I learned to roast coffee. Anyhow, unlike you who got a degree you can use and a spouse, I doubled-majored in Philosophy and heartbreak.” “Aw.” Aiden frowns. “Heartbreak?” “Yep. Since I was on the five-year plan, my college girlfriend graduated a year before me, found herself another guy, and c'est la vie.” After a moment, she suggests, “Surely you dated other women since then.” “Oh, I had lots of one-date-wonders.” Joe smirks. “You know, go on a date and then wonder why the hell you wasted your time.” She chuckles. “But come on.” Pause. “As cute as you are…, nothing serious?” Feeling suddenly studly, he admits, “I had some, uh, short-term relationships but nothing that lasted. Including Maria who’s the reason I met your mom.” Joe sighs. “Anyhow, what your mom does, and now me? It does seem to help people. So I'm okay with that.” After their meal, he requests two orders of conchas. “One now and an extra order for Mike,” he explains. Joe thankfully pays the bill. As they munch on vanilla and chocolate topped sweet breads, Aiden asks, “Has Mike said anything to you about Two Goats?” “No.” Pause. “Is there something I should know?” She coyly replies, “Nothing you won’t know soon enough.” Joe pulls out a twenty and asks, “How about another dance before we go?” He puts the bill in the tip jar and speaks to the guitarist—English this time—who translates to his bandmates. As they begin a mariachi version of Across the Universe, Joe takes Aiden in his arms again and relishes one last slow dance. This time, Mr. Happy behaves himself. Outside Rosalita’s, he raises the top on her Mercedes as she selects another song. They leave listening to I’m Happy Just to Dance with You. Just down the road, a police checkpoint awaits. She lowers the music as Captain Tim Ashe greets them. Joe says, “I cannot believe the chief has his captain out on a holiday.” “All hands on deck,” Tim says. “The chief’s even out tonight since Lieutenant Boone is under the weather.” Joe’s intuition tingles. “Oh? Um..., sorry to hear that.” “And I’m sorry, I have to ask. Have you had any alcohol?” Joe says, “Iced tea for me but she had a margarita so you might need to arrest her.” She slaps his arm. “Stop it.” Then Aiden asks, “Does your wife like our coffee samples?” Tim laughs and says, “She loves ‘em! Y’all drive carefully.” “Hold on.” Joe opens the bag and asks, “Concha?” With the police captain happily satisfied, he drives on. When his phone pings, Joe takes a quick look. It’s a message from Linda. New neighbor said two insurance guys stopped by asking about you last night. You okay? He tells Aiden it’s his former neighbor and dictates a response. “I’m fine. Insurance guys might be about the fire to my business. Did they leave contact info?” As he turns onto the two lane, it pings again. Her message reads: Left cards, Fairfax Insurance, Ben Jones, Mitch Dover. Joe realizes those are the names of the fake reporters the police chief told him about. Aiden asks, “Everything okay?” “I hope so.” Soon they stop at another checkpoint. Joe lowers the window and says, “Sergeant Lucas, you want to know if I’ve been drinking alcohol, correct?” Larry chuckles. “You’re the psychic. Looks like you folks’ve been out on the town.” “Yes, sir. Just coming from Rosalita’s where I drank iced tea. This is Beverly Ford’s daughter, Aiden, but I’m not supposed to tell you she had a margarita.” She pops him again. The sergeant says, “Her readings must have been a real blessing to you, Ms. Ford, like they were to me and my wife.” She corrects, “It’s Mrs. Grogan now. Mr. Spector and I are working on a business deal.” Joe offers him a concha and they drive away. Aiden asks, “Does everyone around here know about you psychics?” He sighs. “Hopefully just the ones that matter.” “Sometime I’d like you to tell me what it’s like. You know, when you do a reading.” Joe grins. “I can tell you now. It’s like taking a nap. I have no idea what comes through unless someone tells me or I hear a recording.” Aiden shrugs, touches her phone, and the Beatles sing If I Fell in Love with You. Light rain falls from the darkened sky. After parking at Thee Orb, Joe holds his coat over their heads as they walk through the dark yard past the fallow garden beds and quiet chicken coop. At the cabin door, she asks, “Trick? Or treat?” Joe sighs. “Aiden, I’ve had way too many tricks lately. So how about a treat?” She opens the door, enters, and pulls him inside. As she fiddles with her phone, Aiden says, “Random question. Do you close your eyes when you kiss?” “Uh—” Joe’s eyes grow wide. “Well…, yeah. I think so.” “Okay. Close your eyes.” Her phone plays All My Loving as she kisses him… much longer than she meant to. Finally, Aiden pulls away. “Oh. Gosh. Sorry, I shouldn’t—” “No! No,” he interrupts. “I work for the CIA now so I promise to keep it top secret. But I tell you, Aiden, that treat was some kind of trick.” She chuckles. “You are a mess, Joe Spector. But a good one.” She takes a deep breath. “So, sunrise in the barn to milk goats?” Smiling, he nods. She says, “Thanks. I needed tonight.” Still smiling, he admits, “Me too. This one date wonder was wonderful.” He declines her offer of a pink umbrella but agrees to text her when he gets to Two Goats. While humming the tune to All My Loving, Aiden takes off her outfit, washes makeup off her face, and slips into a sweatsuit. Checking her phone, she notes no text and thinks, “I bet he stopped at Mama’s to read Rich to sleep.” She decides to see him one last time tonight. Under her pink umbrella, she trots through steady rain toward the warm light of Thee Orb. Aiden sees her Mama in the kitchen window. She enters and starts to slip off her wet shoes. “Hey, sweetie,” Beverly starts. “Did you kids have fun?” “Sure. Didn’t Joe tell you?” Aiden notes her Mama’s puzzled expression and freezes. “He's not here?” “I saw you drive up but he didn’t—” Beverly gasps. “Oh. my God.” * * * Boone gets the hoped-for text. $ drop usual spot.