Wandering over to the checkout stand, I placed the cup on the counter then dug in my pocket for my wallet.

“Dat gonna be two-sixty,” the man told me.

I tossed three ones in front of him.

“You gotta silvuh dime?” he asked.

I shoved a hand into my pocket in search of the change but found nothing but the car keys and the crumpled pages from the phone book.

“No, sorry,” I offered with a shake of my head. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep the change.”

“Awrite,” he replied, giving me a quick nod.

I picked up my coffee and started for the door but halted as the thought of the phonebook pages in my pocket began bludgeoning my grey matter. Then, without thinking anything through, I seized on one of the names I remembered seeing, turned back to face the man, and said, “Mind if I ask you something? I just drove in and I’m looking for the Keys Motel?”

“Dat’s no problem,” he replied, pointing past me. “Ya’ jus’ go down Airline a coupl’a miles and dere it is.”

“Great, thanks,” I offered with a weak smile then let out a nervous chuckle which I’m sure was more a product of the lie I was telling than any sort of acting skill. On the heels of the laugh I added, “You know, I heard there was a weird murder that happened there recently. You hear anything about that?”

“Naw, somebody told ya’ wrong on dat,” he told me, shaking his head and jerking his thumb in the opposite direction. “Da’ murder happened ovuh for da’ Suthun Hosp’tality. Dat’s back up da’ road.”

“Really?” I returned with a nod. “My wife will be glad to hear that. The story kind of spooked her a bit, you know.”

“Yeah, you rite.”

Adrenalin instantly dumped into my system, and my fatigue momentarily fled, along with anything I had that might have resembled good sense.