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and scrolling. Details on the bird itself, which didn’t seem like a useful thing to pursue. Various sports teams, mostly high school, didn’t strike her as particularly promising.
    But ah…the fact that the Blue Crane was South Africa’s national bird…
    That seemed like something. Just what, she wasn’t sure. But it was worth tucking away in the corner of her mind while she finished her coffee, blew doughnut crumbs off the PDA and slipped it back into her sling pack. As she slid out from behind the little round glass table at which she’d been seated, she caught the eye of the bored teen behind the service counter. He came right to attention, blushing a little behind his poor complexion, obviously considering those moments in which he’d been not so surreptitiously eyeing her. She asked him, “Know where I can find the Blue Crane?”
    “Which one?” he blurted. He hastened to add, “There are so many of them right here on the waterfront…that’s not even counting the ones in town.”
    Beth contrived to look confounded. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m supposed to meet someone there.”
    He shook his head. “You better ask ’em, or you’ll go bossies trying to track it down. Or try the shopping center, I suppose. There are a couple to choose from there. It doesn’t open for another hour, though.”
    “Dankie,” she said, and he grinned at her. Not necessarily a good thing; she didn’t want to be remembered. But then again, as the only customer who’d done anything more than rush in and out, she’d already gotten her share of attention.
    But she’d learned something here, and that was worth something. Not only was her hunch right—there were local establishments with Blue Crane in the name—but she had her work cut out for her in sorting them out. It was a start…and Barbara Price could help her prioritize her search. She might even have the right tidbit of information to send her to the right place the first time.
    Beth thought of the Breakwater Hotel, and decided against it. Even if it weren’t compromised, she couldn’t walk there and back before the shopping center opened. At the same time, the area had grown populated enough—mostly fishermen at this hour, but the occasional early-morning walker and overeager tourist—that she didn’t want to stay put. So she wandered, relaxed but her eyes surprisingly alert for a tall, hardened form in a dark olive oilcloth jacket. She strode past Market Square and over by the amphitheater, until she could make her way back to the shopping center and ease into the charm-laden building—a unique structure of indoor malls that from the outside looked like parallel buildings lined up against one another in stepping-stone fashion. The Blue Crane flower shop caught her eye right away; she didn’t stop. Unless she saw something that tugged at her, she’d simply “acquire” the shop locations to start with. Until then…
    Quit looking for him, she scolded herself as she noteda pair of broad shoulders in drab olive. When the man turned he had a smartly trimmed beard and impressively hooked nose. Her MI6 man had had a straight blade of a nose with an interesting broad spot that spoke of a mild break. It’s scary that you remember that, Flash. By a Local Artists Only storefront, she caught sight of someone with a lean silhouette and light step, and instantly turned…
    To find no one.
    Good going, I Spy. Clearly she’d been too long without a date. She’d have to do something about that when she got back to the States. Until then…
    Blue Crane Sport and Surf. Blue Crane Books. Blue Crane Body Naturals. Beth stopped in, intrigued by the basket-held displays. Easy to leave something in this place. She made a point to run her hands along the bottom of every readily accessible basket, not really expecting to find anything. While she was there she bought new toothpaste and brush and found her favorite citrus body soap. The four main classes of