“I’m not sure,” Nancy replied, trying to look confused.
“What’s the problem?”
“Oh, well, this is going to sound weird, but I was supposed to meet a friend of a friend when I got to Lauderdale,” Nancy explained, making it up as she went along. “But I get here and what happens? I can’t find her! She’s not at the hotel, she’s not on the beach, she’s not anywhere.”
“So?” The boy moved over in the booth and casually slid his arm across the back of it. “My name’s Mike, by the way, and I don’t think your story’s weird at all. Your friend’s friend is probably having a blast and just forgot about you. My advice is to enjoy yourself and forget about her.”
“Well, I would, except for one thing.” Nancy noticed that Mike’s hand was now resting on her bare shoulder. “I was supposed to give her something . . . some money. And I just know I can’t have a good time until I find her and get that cash off my hands.”
“Well, a good time’s definitely what it’s all about,” Mike said, tightening his fingers on her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me help you?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Nancy reached into her straw shoulder bag and took out the photo. “Here she is. Her name’s Rosita.”
“Pretty,” Mike said, barely glancing at the picture. “But not as pretty as you.”
“Thanks,” Nancy replied, “but have you seen her?”
“Afraid not. Now, what are you and I going to do for fun tonight?” Mike scooted even closer to Nancy and bent his head down as if he were going to kiss her.
At the last second, Nancy ducked under his arms and left him sitting alone in the booth. Her plans for the night just didn’t include Mike. “Sorry,” she told him, “but until I find Rosita, I’m afraid I won’t have any fun at all.”
Abandoning her pizza, Nancy went out into the warm, breezy night, Mike frowning after her. From now on, she told herself, no more warm-up conversations. Just show the picture and ask the question. If you get stuck with any more Mikes, this search will take forever.
Unfortunately, Fort Lauderdale was full of Mikes, looking to have fun. Some were nice, some came on a little too strong, a few actually took her questions seriously. All of them were interested in Nancy, and none of them had seen Rosita.
By ten-thirty, Nancy was starting to feel discouraged. She’d hit every fast-food place on the strip and turned down invitations to dance in at least half the discos—and still no Rosita. What was the girl, anyway? A phantom? Somebody has to have seen her, Nancy thought.
By that time, the beach parties were going strong. Campfires were blazing, and radios and cassettes were blasting up and down the shoreline. Carrying her sandals, Nancy strolled along the soft, cool sand, stopping at every gathering to ask if anyone had seen the girl in the picture.
One girl thought she looked just like a girl from her dorm. “But she didn’t come to Lauderdale, so it couldn’t be the same one, could it?”
No, Nancy agreed, it couldn’t. She was getting so many “sorrys,” and “never saw hers,” and “forget about her, stick with mes,” that when she finally heard the words, “Oh, sure,” she thought she’d imagined them.
“What did you say?” she asked the boy who’d spoken.
“I said, sure, I saw her about twenty minutes ago.” He took a closer look at the photograph. “Yeah, that’s the one. She was with one of the lifeguards. Ricardo, I think his name is.”
Suddenly Nancy wasn’t tired anymore. Her luck was changing. “Where were they?” she asked.
“Over that way,” the boy said, pointing down the beach. “They were leaning against some trees, talking.” He smiled and gave Nancy a long look. “Hey, if you don’t find them, come on back, why don’t you? I plan to be here all night long.”
“Thanks,” Nancy replied, smiling, “but I don’t.” She trotted down the beach, keeping her ringers crossed that Ricardo and Rosita would still be there.
As Nancy approached a grove of palm trees she saw two shadowy figures emerge and begin walking along the wet sand, close to the water, toward the docks where Dirk had taken her that morning. The tide was still out, and the moon was full. Nancy could see clearly that one of the figures was Ricardo. The other one—shorter and with long, dark hair—had to be Rosita.