Ryan was hot in his raincoat. He ought to take it off. He looked past Jay Walt to get the waitress. Get something and get out. Jay Walt glistened. His styled hair, like a grayish ace cap, glistened with spray. His nose glistened, and his tinted wire-frame glasses glistened and reflected the overhead light. The waitress wouldn’t look this way. She’d made up her mind, nothing was going to make her look. He could get up and leave. He wasn’t sure why he’d come in here anyway, or why he’d come downtown. He hadn’t been downtown in a month. He hadn’t seen Jay Walt in about two months. He didn’t like fast-food counter places with slow service. Tell Jay Walt he’d changed his mind.

Christ, walk out if you want. You don’t have to explain anything.

Ryan said, “Well, I think I’m going to give up on getting served.”

“You want the waitress?”

“No, never mind.” The guy would probably yell at her to get her ass down here, then call her honey and sweetheart and give her a lot of bullshit with everybody listening. Ryan started to turn the stool to ease out of there. “I’ll call you later on, okay?”

“Wait a minute, sit still.” Jay Walt laid his hand on Ryan’s arm and left it there. “I got you, let me tell you what I want.”

“I’ll come by. I’d have to pick up the papers, anyway.” He’d do it, just to get out of here.

“It’s not papers. I want you to find a guy for me.”

Ryan could see it coming. A guy ran out on his car payments and took the car, disappeared. Something like that. He said, “What do you need me for? Call the police.”

“It’s not that kind of a thing,” Jay Walt said. “No paper, no summons, anything like that. I just want you to locate a guy for me. A Robert Leary, Jr. He’s probably around sixty. Say fifty-five to sixty-five. Find out where I can reach him and let me know. That’s all. You don’t have to hand the guy anything or even talk to him.”