Rob parked in the viewpoint car park and stepped out of the car. The wind snatched at his clothes, and he grabbed his jacket to keep it from flapping around. As he’d expected, there was a Bianchi’s ice cream van parked there. And as he hoped, Chez was inside it. His serving hatch was closed and he sat inside with his head down, not looking up when Rob approached. Rob tapped on the glass with his keys and Chez looked up, startled. He stood up, putting down a book, and slid open the serving hatch.
“Hi, Mister,” Rob said, grinning. “Can I get a 99 with monkey’s blood?”
Chez sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to have a chat with you. And you haven’t been returning my calls.” Over a week had passed since that night at the hotel, and Rob had left several messages but got no response.
