It was another of those early phone calls.

"Angie?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

"It's always you this early in the morning. What do you do, get up and run before dark?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really. Gets me started for the day."

Betts yawned and pushed Samson, her big cat, off the bed. "Coffee gets me started. When are you coming to New York next?"

"That's why I'm calling. You remember that reporter who was there when Dad died at Coney Island? Mike?"

"Was that his name? What about him? Is he doing a story on Uncle Gabriel?"

Angie chuckled. "Not exactly. He called and asked me out."

"But you live in Chicago! "

"So? Roy lives in Vegas, and look how often you see him!"

"Okay, okay. So you're going out with him?"

"Why not? He seemed nice. And I can fit it into my business trip in a couple of weeks."

"Two weeks? Roy will be here then, too. Maybe we can all meet up."

"Actually, Mike sort of suggested it. He thinks it would be good to go to Coney Island again before it all disappears. We can all eat at Totonno's and then hit the boardwalk and people-watch."

"Are you sure he's not doing a story on you? Seems weird that he'd want you to go back there after your father…you know…"

"He knows I like it there. I think it's like getting back on the horse or something. He thinks it would be good for me. And he thinks it would be great for all of us to go."

"Well, if you're sure…Okay. Now let me get my coffee. See you in two weeks."

Two weeks later, the four of them – Betts, Roy, Angie and Mike the reporter – left the famous old pizza restaurant in Coney Island, and headed down towards the boardwalk and the beach. It was early evening, hot and humid – one of those August days that feel as if there's thunder just over the horizon.

"That was really good pizza!" Angie patted her stomach.

"Yes, the place was shut down for a while – it's great that they're back." From the conversation over pizze, it seemed Mike knew Brooklyn, and especially Coney Island, very well.

"Let's go sit on the benches and look at the beach." Betts felt she needed to digest the pizza for a while.

They settled on a bench where they could watch both the beach and the boardwalk. It was summer, and the sun was still high in the sky. In front of them, a flock of gulls and bigger birds – terns, maybe – squabbled over something they'd found in the sand. Children and the occasional bikini-clad teenager hurried over the hot sand to the water.

"Did you see that?" Roy chuckled. "See that enormous dog? His owner was walking him, and the dog just stopped dead to sniff at a garbage can. The guy's feet nearly went out from under him!"

On the boardwalk, more bikini wearers paraded. A couple of young, handsome men strolled hand in hand, and a small child tried unsuccessfully to manage a wobbling ice cream cone, then wailed when it hit the ground.

Angie giggled. "Those two," she nodded at a gold lame-clad pair strolling ever-so-casually down the boardwalk, "look as if they're rehearsing for next year's Mermaid Parade!"

"Mermaid Parade?" Roy looked puzzled.

"It's the start of summer at Coney Island," Mike explained. "Hundreds of people show up in costume and parade down Surf Avenue and the boardwalk. And you wouldn't believe the costumes – what there is of them!"

"Really?" Roy looked suddenly interested.

Betts laughed. "Yes, really. A lot of them dress mostly in paint. And the – er – better-endowed they are, the less they seem to wear."

"Well, I guess mermaids don't wear much. Hey, who's for ice cream? It's getting hotter and steamier."

"Are you sure it's the weather and not the conversation?" Betts said. "Yes, ice cream, definitely. Let's go over to the sideshows. There's sure to be ice cream there."

There was ice cream – and sideshows. Roy and Mike were riveted by the posters outside the burlesque show.

"Remember your grandma Elizabeth?" Angie nudged Betts. "She'd fit right in here!"

"Oh god! I still can't believe she was a stripper – and a hooker! I remember her as such a lady."

"Why don't we go in and take a look? There's a show opening in a few minutes. I hear they bring people in the audience up to 'perform.'"

"No way. Can you imagine?"

"Wait. Is that rain?" Roy looked up. "Look at that sky. It's going to pour."

And it did. The dark clouds opened up, and big splashy summer-in-New-York raindrops began to fall, promising to soak everybody in minutes.

"OK, that's it," Angie announced. "We're going to check out the burlesque show."

"You've got to be kidding!" Betts said. Then the rain came down harder than ever, and she shrugged. "Oh, what the hell? Let's take a look."

Moments later, she was turning shades of pink as women, and one or two men, dressed in sequins and little else, took turns dancing on the little stage at the front of the small theater.

"I wish you hadn't mentioned Grandma Elizabeth," she muttered to Angie. "Now I keep imagining her in one of those costumes!"

"Ssshh," Roy murmured. "I'm concentrating." He grinned at her.

Up on the stage, one of the performers announced that they wanted members of the audience to come up on the stage and give it a whirl. Angie elbowed Betts. "Go on. You look like your grandma, maybe you can dance like her." Roy raised an eyebrow and grinned wider.

"No! No way am I going up there!"

A spotlight from the stage began moving around the audience, pausing here and there, then moving on. Betts started to feel nervous. "No, really, I'm not."

The light moved closer, paused on a woman across the aisle, then moved closer.

"Go on!" Angie was in a fit of giggles.

"No! It's creepy. It's like that light is after me."

The light moved closer, then focused on her and stopped. On the stage, the woman beckoned, smiling broadly. Betts shook her head. The woman nodded.

"No, really, I'm not going to do that. Look, I'll meet your guys outside. This is too weird." Betts go up and started to edge sideways toward the aisle. The audience applauded.

"No! No, I'm not." Betts was getting more and more uncomfortable as the spotlight followed her. When she reached the aisle and turned towards the exit, the audience who had applauded a moment before began to boo her. It was teasing, but still uncomfortable, and she picked up speed, then broke into a run, the spotlight still following her.

She pushed the door open and ran out, not really knowing why she wanted so much to get away. She burst out through the front door, and turned to get away from the spotlight that she felt was following her.

The street was wet and slippery. Betts felt her foot sliding out from under her, but she didn't feel it when she fell. And she didn't feel it when her head cracked against a lamppost and the world went dark.