Minka
“T he diner .” I peer out the bus’s tinted windows as Jay brings us to a stop in the middle of a main street in a town about an hour from the airport.
This town is, ridiculously, smaller than the one we were in before, which makes the gargantuan size of the bus taking up a half dozen car spaces all the more absurd.
Reading the signage above a little diner, I frown. “Why are we stopping here?”
“Because I’m hungry, obviously.” Soph snatches up a cross-body bag somewhat similar to mine and tosses a military-looking laptop inside, then swinging it around until at least half of us are at risk of losing our heads, she moves toward the front of the bus and opens a door different from the one we entered through.
“It’s food o’clock, and I’m not a very nice person if I don’t stick to schedule. ”
“But our schedule was supposed to include a dead body!” I run to the storage bin Spencer deposited my bag inside, and grabbing it on the fly, I race after Sophia, through the bus door and onto the sidewalk outside.
I dash through the putrid heat, like wading through steam, and tugging the case file out of my bag, I slide through the closing gap of the diner door and into blissful air conditioning once more.
“Soph. The longer you leave the remains, the more evidence we lose. It’s gonna be dark in a couple of hours and?—”
“Curly fries, please.” She waves at the server and smiles. “And a thick shake. Chocolate.”
“Soph—”
She plops onto the swivel stool at the front counter and turns toward the door as her men—and mine, too, I guess—file through. “You want a burger, Jay?”
“Mmm. Yes, please.” He strides closer and smacks a noisy kiss to the back of her neck, then he circles away ahead of Kane and Jess, and flops into a booth that should fit three bodies on each side, but there’s no way it will fit two Bishops side by side.
“And a shake,” he decides. “And fries, and maybe something for a starter, too. They got breadsticks?”
As each new body wanders through, the server’s friendly expression grows dimmer. Her excitement at the prospect of new faces turns to dread as Felix comes in. Micah. Archer. Corey. Spencer. So many to feed, and quite possibly, not enough food to go around.
“I’ll help you.” Happily, Jess bops around the otherwise empty diner in denim shorts and a tank top that hugs her frame perfectly, and taking out her phone, she stares at the Malones as they consider whether they’ll hover or sit.
Accept their fate, or continue to fight it?
“You want something to eat?” She pulls out a chair and waits for Debbie to waddle nearer. “I remember what eight months feels like. The baby wanna eat?”
“Juice.” Christabelle lowers with a grunt, her belly bumping the table forward so the legs scrape against the linoleum floor. “More juice, please. I’m begging you.”
Panicked, Felix’s eyes swing to me. Like he’s seeking permission. God knows, I’m not her doctor. But I drop my chin anyway.
“I know you’re not deferring to her, Felix Malone.” She settles back and moans. “I said I wanted juice, means I get juice.”
“Juice means your sugars are low, right?” He plops onto the seat opposite and takes her hand in his. “Darling, sugar cravings are bad.”
“Not giving me the things I want when I ask for them is bad!” She jerks her hand back again, only to turn it palm-side-up.
And like they’ve done this a million times in the past, he places his phone in her hand and waits while she enters the code, swipes the screen, then turns it back to show him.
“See? My sugars are fine. It’s just juice. ”
“Juice.” Jess taps the order into her phone. “Food?”
“Fries,” she groans. “And gravy. Lots and lots of gravy.”
Jess snorts and looks at Felix. “And you?”
“How far are we from the remains?” Ignoring the rest of them, I bring my focus back to Sophia and slap the case file down.
Whipping it open, I spread images across the counter.
“You say they discovered her the day before yesterday, right? The scene pictures imply she’s out of town or something. Somewhere with minimal foot traffic.”
“Mmhm. Body’s about twenty minutes from here.” She looks up with a blinding smile and accepts an icy cold shake in a tall steel cup. “Thank you.”
“What has the current investigative team done so far? What specialists are involved?”
“Local police, I guess.” She brings the straw between her lips and sucks the thick liquid into her mouth. “Damn, that’s good. Babe.” She spins on the stool, bumping my thigh with her knees. “Jay. The shakes are amazing.”
“Fuckin’ A. I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since the airport.”
“Sophia?” I grab the strap of her bag and swing her back around. “What’s the status of the case?”
“Medical examiner from the next town over took a look.” She turns again, tilting her head to the side as Aubree finds a seat and settles in opposite Tim.
“They’re not accustomed to this kind of stuff, so they passed the file on and asked for more experienced hands.
Hence,” she studies Aubree’s eyes, but shrugs the shoulder closest to me.
“You. It’s not like I have a bunch of medical examiners in my rolodex, and, considering I have the best one, I saw no reason to look elsewhere. ”
Suspicious, Aubree narrows her eyes. “What’s going on, Sophia?”
“Food.” She spins again and slams her shake back to the counter.
“They don’t have the same forensics technology out here, and the M.E.
is more experienced with announcing death, not studying it.
She’s about eighty years old and hasn’t brushed up on her textbook knowledge since the invention of the internet.
The M.E,” she quips. “Not the dead body. I’m not sure what her job was yet. ”
“Which brings me to my next point.” I tug out the image of the vic’s legs. “She’s had a total knee replacement.”
“Yeah?” Some people pretend to be smart and do a poor job of it. And then there’s Sophia Solomon, pretending to be dumb. And she’s just as successful as the former. “Huh. Guess I didn’t notice before.”
“What the hell do you mean you didn’t notice? It’s right there! The components are?—”
“Curly fries.” The server sets a bowl on top of my DB’s images and wanders around the counter with another bowl for Jay.
“Thank you!” Soph snags a piping hot fry and fast-passes it between her hands. “They smell delicious.”
I shove the bowl aside and tear my files out from beneath, snarling at the moisture ring already marking the dead woman’s tibia. “Dammit, Soph. Are you trying to be a pain in my ass, or does it come naturally to you?”
“Well, shit.” On the other side of the diner, Cato bounds up from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor and silverware clattering when his thighs hit. Then he dashes across the room and plasters his face to the glass window. “She’s purrrrty.”
Frustrated, I turn and search the street outside. Considering how uninhabited this town is, it takes a mere second to find his newest infatuation in tiny denim shorts and a flowy tank top. The fact she’s young and fit and pretty doesn’t surprise me. But the blonde hair kinda does.
He typically leans brunette.
“Leave the locals alone,” Archer grumbles. “We’re only gonna be here for a day.”
“Exactly. A day to capture her heart and leave her wanting more.” He side-shuffles all the way to the door, then, slinging it wide, he stops on the threshold and cups his mouth. “Hey! You. You’re pretty.”
“Oh my lawd,” Jen guffaws. “Tell me that’s not how he usually plays the game? Because no self-respecting woman would respond to?—”
The pretty one stops in the street and shields her eyes, staring back this way.
And then she smiles.
“Welp…” Jen lowers onto Corey’s lap, humbled. “Guess the kids these days do things differently.” She shakes her head and cuddles against his chest. “I’m never breaking up with you, Popeye. I couldn’t date in this new, weird world.”
“Who are you?” The pretty one shouts. Since, of course, doing so in a small town is totally normal. “What’s your name?”
“Got her.” Cato glances back and brushes invisible dust off his shoulder. “The ladies simply cannot refuse me.”
“You already got laid today,” Fletch snickers. “You aren’t done yet?”
Cato shoots a fiery glare his way, then lifting his chin, he turns toward the street and steps through the doorway. “My name’s Cato. What’s yours?”
“How do you know he got laid today?” Jess asks. Then she wrinkles her nose. “Does he announce it? Does he talk about his dick a lot?”
“Blondie!”
“Kane used to be like that. Obsessed with the damn thing. It was concerning, really.”
“Jessica Ann!” He pushes to his feet and grabs her like she’s nothing more than a potato sack, picking her up and carrying her back to his booth. “Stop talking about my dick when I’m trying to focus.”
“Focus on what?” She laughs. “This ain’t work, Bishop. This is a late lunch. They’re not our enemies.”
“Us?” I bring my attention back to Soph. “You brought your soldiers like you need protection from us?”
She folds over her bowl of fries and inhales them too fast to ensure each has been chewed. “We’re in a new place, and we’ve got all the Malones in one room. Precaution is better than reaction.”
“What does our being in the same room have to do with anything?” Archer comes up on Soph’s other side and rests his elbow on the counter, leaning and searching her eyes. “Solomon? What have you done?”
“I didn’t do anything!” She gratefully accepts a plated burger and double fists the packed buns so none of the fillings fall out.
“I was aware Christabelle was getting close to full term, and Tim and Aubree are hitched now. I’m used to dealing with you two.
Maybe Tim, too. Sometimes. Rarely. Now we have all five, and tempers are already a little hot. ”
“Why are tempers hot?” I clutch Soph’s shoulder and jerk her around. “We’ve been amenable in the past. Why do you assume tempers are hot now?”