Chapter 2
Ulysses
“You new in town?” The pretty server offered an enigmatic smile. Sympathy?
I must’ve looked bad.
Curiosity?
I was the only guy in the diner.
Just making chitchat?
I intended to leave her a large tip anyway.
“Yes, I’m new in town.” I placed my hand on the community paper. “I’m the new editor.”
“Of the Mission City Gazette?” Her soft blue eyes brightened. “Oh, that’s so exciting. My friend Spring is a reporter there. Fresh out of a journalism program. She’s so talented. She really has the pulse of the community. Which only makes sense since she’s a Dixon sister.”
I cocked my head.
“Oh.” She tapped her pen on her notebook. “Why don’t I have the cook start your food, and then I’ll tell you about the Dixon sisters. Legendary in this town.”
My innate curiosity piqued, I smiled. “I’d like that. I’ll have the French toast platter with my eggs over easy and crisp bacon.”
“You got it.”
As she bustled off, I took a good look at the place. Very retro—which was likely why the place was named Fifties. I’d noticed a yellowed news article from back when the place had opened. Seventy years ago, come Christmas.
I’d have to do something special. Seventy years was a hell of a long time. Of course the place hadn’t been called Fifties back then. A second article heralded new ownership three decades ago with a refresh and a new name.
After a long moment’s contemplation, I snagged my phone from my jacket pocket. I entered the code—because no way was I using facial recognition—and I pulled up the last photo I’d taken.
Finn.
With his red hair almost silver in the slash of moonlight coming through his window. His face, in repose, held none of the cockiness. Well, caring. He was a good guy. A boy scout who liked to have his ass drilled.
A pleasant contradiction.
You were right to leave.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Probably.
No second-guessing.
My mantra in life. And, if my source was right, the rot within the fire department permeated from the recruits to the top echelons of power. I had no way to know if Finn was involved or not.
“Okay, so, the Dixon sisters.”
I noted Sarabeth’s nametag.
“Yes, please share.”