"What do you mean?"

"You know, that obsession he had with people who change their names. Moses, a girl named Phoebe Moses. Why would she have changed her name to Annie Oakley? It's good to be Moses. That's what Joe would have said. I gotta find out why she switched to Oakley."

"Forget about the Berks," Mercer said. "You put down that mug, Alexandra, and before we take you home, we're going to find the first greasy spoon in town that opens and get us all some food that doesn't come off a sidewalk coffee cart."

"I got the place," Mike said. "As long as she's treating."

"We're making progress."

"What do you mean, Coop?"

"Ten days ago, when we started working on this case, you turned me down flat when Mercer and I offered to take you for breakfast."

"Don't push your luck, kid. They'll be no ballet, no-"

"I only offered bacon and eggs."

"No opera, no-"

Mercer held out his hand and pulled me up. "We're hungry," he said to Mike. "Let's go."

"No theater tickets. No Shakespeare, no musicals, no revivals, no-"

"You love Broadway. You've always liked going to shows with me."

"That was before I knew about the ghosts, Coop. Too many ghosts in those theaters-way too many. And I still haven't even learned how to deal with my own."