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tops off the mannequins. It’s unseemly. I have families with young children walking past and coming in to shop. The last thing they need to see is topless mannequins.”
    “Mario, I’ve got officers walking up and down the boardwalk all day. How come nobody has ever seen anyone doing this? Maybe it’s someone working in your store.”
    “What are you talking about? I only have my wife, Marie, working in the store now. I had to cut back on account of the recession. And I’m not the only one. Billy farther down has been complaining about the same thing.”
    Holbrook felt sweat trickle down his neck. It was peak season, and Smuggler’s Bay had its share of thefts, public intoxication, fights, the occasional sexual assault, speeding, drugs…and this guy was breaking his balls about some wiseass kid pulling the tops down on female mannequins.
    “Mario, I’ll have the officers keep an extra close eye out for your shop. I promise.”
    “When you catch this pervert, I’m willing to press charges. In fact, it’ll be my pleasure.”
    Holbrook reached back and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck with his hand. His skin was sensitive, like he was fixing on the beginnings of a burn. “Mario, he’s probably some kid thinking he’s being funny. If I catch him, I’ll give if a stern talking to. I’ll talk to his parents.” Changing the subject, “How’s Marie?”
    “She’s fine, other than this,” said Mario waving his hands dismissively. It was the heat. It was making everybody irritable.
    “How’s business?”
    “It’s been a good summer. Good sized crowds this year. My kids can eat this winter.”
    “Mario, your kids can eat steak every day this winter. Can I count on you to come to the Town Council Meeting to discuss preparations for the Centennial next year?”
    “When is it?”
    “October. Right before Halloween.”
    “I’ll be there, Chief.”
    “Great. You coaching soccer this year?”
    “Yeah. I’ll be doing soccer again.”
    “Maybe you’ll get Robbie this year.”
    “I hope so, Chief. I’ve seen your son play. He’s good.”
    “I guess we’ll see. I gotta run. Stay cool.”
    “Ah-right, ah-right,” said Mario.
    As Chief Holbrook was leaving, Marie was coming.
    “Hi, Chief.”
    “Hi, Marie. We’ll keep an extra eye on your store.”
    “Great. Thanks. The sooner you catch whoever’s doing it, the sooner I won’t have to hear about it from Mario anymore.”
    She entered the store and smiled at her husband.
    “So how’s Billy Blake’s business doing?”
    “Same as ours. He’s got a few new prints.”
    “Does he have any idea who’s pulling down the tops on the mannequins?”
    “For all we know it’s him,” she jested.
    Mario snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. A man his age living alone, drinking and shooting pool at the Jolly Roger every night, and cavorting with girls half his age…”
    Marie chuckled, but she felt warmth in her nether regions.
    “By the way,” said Mario, shifting gears, “I need you to run the store tomorrow. I’m going to visit my mother.”
    “How’s she been?”
    Mario sighed deeply. “She doesn’t always recognize me anymore, and when she does, she thinks I’m a teenager or something.”
    Marie smiled sympathetically, and her mind wandered to her husband as a teenager. He was thinner and built back then. But no one looks like they’re seventeen forever. Billy Blake looked good for his age, but he didn’t have responsibility or obligations.
    “Well, I’m sure she appreciates you bringing her food and cookies. She always had a sweet tooth, your mother.”
    Mario suddenly looked very sad. “They won’t let me bring her cookies anymore.”
    “What? Who?”
    “The nurses.”
    “Why?”
    “They’re afraid she’s going to choke on them.”
    Marie put her hand to her mouth. “Jesus, Mario, I’m sorry.”
    He looked off into space. “Yeah, well…”
    “Well, you visiting her is a good thing.” Marie put her arm around his