Sadie's hadn't changed much since the last time Hadley visited. That had been years ago, and she was sure that these same stale peanuts had sat all this time in their little bowls since the last time she'd tried them.
She spit out the rubbery thing in her napkin.
"Order us something, Lou," Hadley said.
"Where you goin'?" Lou Edna asked.
"The little girl's room," said Hadley.
If she remembered correctly the little boy's and girl's rooms were out back – near the kitchen, of all places.
But Hadley wasn't interested in finding out if the décor had changed in that one-seater water closet. She banged on the door, and the cook opened up.
"You all right?" the big-bellied cook ask.
The grease on that guy's apron looks decades old, Hadley thought.
"Nothing to eat," she said before she could stop herself.
Hadley flashed a couple of twenties.
"Just some information."
"You a cop?" the gruff grease slinger asked.
"Do I look like a cop?"
"You look like a nosy grandmother," said the cook.
"Exactly," said Hadley. My granddaughter was here a little while back."
"So," said the cook. "Lotsa women come here."
But his eyes never left the money.
Hadley added another twenty, making a pretty fan of bills.
"She ain't old, padnah," Hadley said. "As a matter of fact, she looks older than she really is. I'm talkin' underage. Fifteen, if you catch my drift. Blonde and beautiful."
"I don't know nuthin'," he said.
"Look," said Hadley, "I ain't out to bust you for sellin' her a few beers. It's her boyfriend who's really scum. You might know him. Dougal Orner."
"They was here," the cook said.
"Did they ask for anything from you?" Hadley said. "Besides the beers?"
"You ain't gonna believe me," he said.
"No hard drugs, I hope," she said.
"Lord, naw," he said. "You ain't gonna believe this, lady. Not in a hund'rit yars."
"What," Hadley said, handing over the money.
He grabbed the twenties in his fat, hairy paw.
"Garbage bags," the cook said.
"Black garbage bags?" said Hadley.
"You got it," the cook said, slamming the door in Hadley's face.