Metro Girl (Alex Barnaby 1)

“Frightening.”

“Get in the car,” Hooker said. “I’m taking you to breakfast at the News Café. Everyone eats breakfast at the News Café.”

Five minutes later, we were on the sidewalk in front of the outdoor eating area of the News Café. We were waiting for a table, and we weren’t alone. There were lots of people waiting for tables. We were all milling around on the sidewalk, gawking at the lucky people who had food, gawking at the people across the street who were rollerblading in thongs.

“This is Ocean Drive,” Hooker said. “And as you can see, across the street there’s a small green belt with a bike path, and beyond the green belt is the beach and the ocean.”

“Would you rollerblade in a thong?”

“I wouldn’t rollerblade in body armor.”

“What happens when someone falls?”

“I move in closer to get a better look,” Hooker said. “There’s usually a lot of blood.”

Hooker waded into the diners, stopping here and there to say hello and ask about Bill. He made the rounds, and he came back to the sidewalk. “Nothing,” he said.

After ten minutes of waiting, we got a table. Hooker ordered eggs, a stack of pancakes, sausage, juice, and coffee. I got a bran muffin and coffee.

Hooker poured syrup on his pancakes and looked over at my bran muffin. “Yum,” he said.

“If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a skinny wiseass.”

“I’m not skinny,” he said. “I’m buff. I’m ripped. Geeky guys are skinny.”

There was a steady stream of guys coming up to Hooker, clapping him on the back, doing weird handshakes with him. “Hey, man,” they’d say, “how’s it going? What’s happening?” And Hooker would say, “It’s going good, man.” Sometimes Hooker would say, “I’m looking for Wild Bill. Have you seen him?” And the answer was always the same. “Haven’t seen him. What’s up with that?”

A Miami Beach cop car parked at the curb across the street, followed by two trucks and an RV. A bunch of people got out of the trucks and began off-loading equipment.

Hooker forked pancakes into his mouth. “Two possibilities,” he said. “A movie with a volleyball scene, or else it’s a fashion shoot. You can tell which it is when the girls come out of the RV. If they have big boobs, it’s a volleyball scene.”

“I seem to be the only one interested.”

“At this time of year Ocean Drive is filled with this stuff. It gets old. Just like the club scene gets old.”

“I can’t believe you said that. NASCAR Guy thinks the club scene is boring. You keep that up and you’ll ruin your image.”

“I’ll try to be extra shallow today to make up for it.”

I finished my muffin, and I was working on a second cup of coffee when my cell phone rang. Hooker and I locked eyes at the first ring, both of us hoping it was Bill. I pulled the phone out of my bag and did a mental groan at the number on the screen. It was my mother.

“Where are you?” she wanted to know. “I’ve been calling your apartment, and there’s never any answer. Then I called your work number, and they said you took a couple days off.”

“I felt like I needed warm weather, so I flew down to Miami to visit Bill.”

“You hate to fly.”

“Yes, but I did it. And here I am. And it’s warm.”

“How is your brother? He never calls me.”

“Bill isn’t here. He’s at sea, but he should be back any day now.”

“When you see him, tell him his friend called yesterday looking for him.”

“What friend is that?”

“He didn’t leave a name, but he had a Hispanic accent. He said Bi