Chapter 3 Jennie #3
I drove with the radio off, the sound of the wind and tires the only soundtrack. My hands were a little nervous, but I convinced myself it was from the adrenaline of the day and not the prospect of sitting across from a man who had twice now made my stomach flip.
The Creekside Diner came up on the left, its neon sign flickering against the encroaching dusk. The parking lot was nearly empty, just a few trucks and a battered sedan. I killed the engine, sat for a moment, and considered what I wanted from this meeting.
Information. Leverage. Maybe something else, but I wasn’t thinking about that right now. I shut that particular line of thought down as best I could, then got out and headed for the door.
The screen door slapped shut behind me. Behind the counter, Marge was filling a mug for a man in a sheriff’s jacket. She gave me a glance, then pointed to the back booth, where Reid was already sitting, eyes on his phone.
He wore a cotton shirt and looked only a little less at home in this setting than he had on the horse. When he looked up, there was no preamble, a brief, precise smile. “Hey,” he said.
I sat, and the booth vinyl stuck to the back of my knees. He slid a menu across, though I’d be ordering pie and nothing else. He didn’t know that. “So,” I said, “I guess this is neutral ground.”
He shrugged. “Less drama if anyone sees us. Also, the pie’s not bad.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. I scanned the menu anyway, buying time. “You texted?”
“You texted back,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “Most people would’ve ignored it.”
“Most people don’t work for the Colemans.”
That got the smallest smile. “You don’t look much like Coleman stock.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Reid scanned the room, but nothing about him was anxious. He was just… registering. Always. “Did you get to ride today?” he said, and I could hear the bait in the statement. He knew I’d been out, somehow.
I went for a vague response, playing it close to the vest. “Jupiter knows the land better than I do.”
He made a low noise. “Most animals do, out here.”
Marge appeared with coffee and poured for both of us without asking. She raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded. “Pecan, if you’ve got it. If not, whatever’s least likely to survive another day in the case.”
She snickered, then left. The Diner wasn’t empty, but it was close. The lawman in the corner sipped his coffee and played on his phone.
“So what’s your angle?” I asked.
Reid blinked, and I watched his gears turn. “I could ask you the same thing. You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t want something.”
Damn, we were both way too suspicious, but I had a very good reason to be. “True,” I said. “I’m looking for help. Local help. Not the type you can hire off an app, as if that would work around here.”
He considered, then said, “You want someone to guide you through the land. Why?”
I thought about lying, but it seemed both a waste and a challenge. “I’m supposed to survey the east pasture, for a start, but the maps are shit, the GPS doesn’t work three-fourths of the time, and nobody at the ranch will show me the line. They said I was on my own.”
He waited, then said, “You got lost?”
“Briefly. Not enough to panic, but enough to know I could get screwed out there really easily.”
He nodded. “Jupiter’s a good horse, but she won’t get you out of real trouble. You can’t always trust a horse to just go home.”
“I figured.”
The pie came, and we both dug in. He didn’t ask why I wanted help, and I didn’t offer.
I asked, “What’s your price?”
His face was stone, but his eyes were warm, which made it worse. “Depends. You looking for a bodyguard, a tracker, or a distraction?”
I wanted to laugh, but the seriousness in his voice kept it in check. “Maybe a little of all three?”
He set his fork down, then said, “I’ll do it. But if the Colemans make any trouble about me helping you on their land, I’m not starting a turf war. I’ll just go home.”
I took a bite of the pie. Damn, it was good.
“That’s fair. I’ll make sure they know it’s not optional if it becomes a problem.
” I considered him and almost told him my real name, but decided it was better to stay safe.
“Cardin, by the way,” I said. “My last name is Cardin. In case you were wondering.”
He held my gaze a beat longer than necessary. “Good to know, Jennie Cardin.” He finished his coffee, then said, “Tomorrow. Nine a.m. Meet me at the line. I’ll text the coordinates.”
“Done,” I said.
We ate in silence for a while. It was less awkward than it should have been.
When I finished my coffee, I looked at him. “Why are you helping me?”
He shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe because you don’t scare easy, which I like. And you’re not an asshole.”
I thought that over, then nodded. “Okay.”
He paid the bill and left a tip, then got up and walked out without looking back. I sat there for a few minutes, finishing my pie, then thanked Marge on my way out.
The sun was gone, but the sky still held a band of bruised orange along the ridge. I got in the truck and watched the empty highway for a minute before starting the engine.
I was in it now, and there was no way out but through.