Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Okay, well, thank you for your time.”
“Do you have a record player?” he asked.
“My parents do,” Kat said. “A little too scratchy for me.” She wrinkled her nose.
But Duces chuckled, obviously unoffended. “Nah, that’s the whole charm,” he said. “Feel free to look around, see if there’s something your folks might want for Christmas.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Kat handed him her card. “If you have any reason to call,” she said.
He looked down at it and nodded, and at the sound of a phone ringing, he headed to the checkout counter and answered the call. “Duces Wild. Duces speaking.”
She leaned in to Sienna. “Listening to old records feels like sandpaper on my brain.” She made a dramatic expression, squeezing one eye shut tight and lifting the other.
Sienna snickered. “Sandpaper on the brain. Lovely visual.”
“Let’s get going.”
“Hold on,” Sienna said, turning down one of the rows of records, running her hand along the tops of the artists whose names began with A and then using her finger to pull them forward so she could see the covers. ABBA . . . AC/DC . . . the Association. She turned back to Kat, who was following along behind her. “Were there any bands mentioned in those notes?”
“Not that I caught. I left the file in the car, but we could go outside and comb through it again.” She shrugged. “I’m no music aficionado, but maybe if we’re specifically looking for the name of an artist, something will pop out that didn’t before.”
Sienna blinked as something came to her. “Kat, what about that phrase that he said Mr. Patches used—”
“‘Oh, doo-dah day,’” Kat said, wrinkling her brow. “Is that a song?”
“I don’t know, but it seems like it could be.” She swore she’d heard it somewhere before, though she couldn’t bring a tune to mind.
Kat turned toward the counter, where Duces was just hanging up the phone. “Hey, Duces, do you know the song with the lyrics ‘oh, doo-dah day’?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. That’s a classic. It’s called ‘Camptown Races,’ by Stephen Collins Foster. It’s mostly thought of as a children’s song nowadays, even though it’s about gambling. I typically don’t carry anything from the era the song was written in, but Johnny Cash did a badass rendition of it on the Bell Telephone Hour in 1959.” He pointed behind them. “You’ll find a copy in the Cs, right over there.”
They thanked Duces as the door opened and a girl dressed in all black with her black hair in short, curly pigtails and choppy bangs walked in and glumly greeted Duces, then headed behind the counter where he also stood. An employee?
Kat turned to Sienna, looking incredulous. “Who else would know stuff like that off the top of his head?”
“No one except him,” Sienna murmured, a tingle under her skin that said they were in the right place.
“Camptown Races.” She knew the song now, and the tune wound through her head as she and Kat walked quickly to the C section, Sienna separating the albums until they came to the one they were looking for. And on the front was a mint-green sticky note with a string of numbers.
Sienna felt a burst of triumph, quickly followed by a small stab of irritation. The two emotions mixed, making her feel slightly breathless. She turned to Kat, holding the record up. At the front, Duces was deep in conversation with the girl.
“Duces?” Kat called. “Can we ask you to look at something?” He said something to the girl, and she began taking the bag hooked around her body off and placing her things behind the counter as he headed toward Kat and Sienna.
“What’s up?”
Kat pointed at the sticky note. “Is that something you put there?”
He frowned, leaning in to get a better look. “No. But I buy these old albums all over the place . . . estate sales, yard sales, thrift stores . . . so it could have been there from wherever I picked it up.” He stood straight, calling over to the girl behind the counter. “Ari, did you put a green sticky note on this album?”
“A what?”
“A green sticky note with some random numbers on it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Yes or no?”
“No.”
He turned back toward Kat and Sienna. “Kids,” he said.
“Do you remember seeing anyone browsing this section recently?”
Duces scratched at the back of his head. “Not specifically.” He turned around again. “Ari, do you remember anyone looking through the records in this section?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “No.”
Duces shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Do you have security cameras in here?” Kat asked.
“No. I keep meaning to get one. Not for the albums but more for my equipment.” He shrugged. “But it’s insured, so I guess it just hasn’t been a priority.”
“Okay. We’re going to purchase this record and take this sticky note with us,” Kat said, nodding to the note.