Page 28 of Wham Line

When he reached us, he offered an uncertain smile.“Sorry about that.Chef wanted to know if you could wait.”

Bobby’s eyebrows went up.“That’s what she said?”

The young guy’s ears pinkened.“Well, she said, ‘Make them come back.’”He gave a nervous chuckle.“I can get you a table.You can have something to eat.On the house.”

“Did she say that?”Bobby asked.

“Yeah, she did.She’s actually not like that; you just caught her at a bad time.”

Bobby looked at me.

“Yeah,” I said.“Yes.Sure.”And then, because you have to ask the hard-hitting questions: “Does that include dessert?”

The young man laughed.Bobby did not.

We ended up at a small table near the kitchen, and yes, we got a lot of dirty looks from the people who were still waiting.Slowly, the dining room returned to its clamor of voices and cutlery.The noise and heat from the kitchen filtered out from the swinging doors; things had returned to normal there, too, and the sounds of people working in tandem, along with the smell of good food, were unexpectedly comforting.After a few minutes, Bobby took out his phone and glanced at it.

“We don’t have to stay,” I said.

“We have to talk to her sometime.”

“But if we don’t have time, I mean.If there’s something else we need to do.”

He shook his head, but I got the impression that it had more to do with what he was reading on his phone than with me.He began tapping out something—a message, a search, I couldn’t tell what.

“Everything okay?”I asked.

He made a sound of agreement.

“Bobby?”

“Huh?”

“Did something happen?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said vaguely and went back to his phone.

At that moment, Nalini approached the table.She handed each of us a menu and started to squeak, “I’ll be right back—”

I cut her off with, “We’re ready to order.Bobby will have an iced tea.I want a Coke.Oh, and can we get some bread?”

“Yes, let me just—”

“Bobby, what do you want?”

He had the phone pressed to his ear now, and he shook his head.

“You have to eat something,” I said.

Tilting the phone away from his mouth, he whispered, “Not hungry.”

Of course he wasn’t hungry.He hadn’t eaten anything in over twenty-four hours; why would he be hungry?

“A hamburger,” I said, “with fries.And the fish and chips.”

“Uh, okay,” Nalini said, sidling away from the table.

“And where were you last night when Mal got shot?”