Page 54 of Shattered Secrets

He pocketed his phone and walked across the street to where Gavin waited for him. Greeting the man with a chin lift, he fell in stride as they turned the corner toward the sheriff’s department.

“How was your weekend?” Gavin asked. “Are Scarlet and Daisy doing—” He held up a hand as he brought his ringing phone to his ear. After answering, the troubled look on his face had Matt’s gut tightening. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

Gavin hung up, then spun around and headed in the direction from which they’d come. Matt kept up, unease building with each hurried step.

“That was Martha,” Gavin said, voice low. “She says something’s going on at the diner and we need to come in and act like regular customers.”

Matt’s stomach dropped. Shit. Scarlet was working this morning...

Picking up their pace, they walked through the front door of Ray’s Diner in less than a minute.

“Well, hello, you two,” Martha called out, waving them over to where she stood on the opposite side of the diner. “I have your usual table ready for you.”

The hairs on the back of Matt’s neck rose. They didn’t have a usual table. But he kept his expression neutral and followed Gavin to the booth along the far window.

Martha seated them with a tight smile. “Be right back with your usuals, boys.”

She returned moments later, placing a large omelet in front of Matt and a breakfast-sandwich-and-hash-brown combo in front of Gavin. Neither were their usuals. The older womanremained standing at the end of their booth, and Matt studied her.

Martha was beautifully round. Her dark-brown eyes always twinkled with mischief, and her heart-shaped face was usually filled with laugh lines. But not today. Today, tension emanated from her frame, and deep, worried grooves cut the planes of her face.

She caught Matt’s gaze, and her eyes widened the smallest amount as they darted to the man seated at the table behind her. “Enjoy your food now. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

“Thank you, Martha,” Matt said, nodding.

“You’re very welcome.” She turned and moved on to the man she’d indicated.

After years as a detective, it had become second nature for Matt to memorize the details of his surroundings. As such, he’d noted all the patrons upon entering the diner. But nothing special had stood out about the man Martha now served.

White male. Mid-thirties to late-forties. Blue eyes and closely cropped, borderline buzz-cut light-brown hair. Though the guy was sitting, Matt pegged him to be roughly six feet tall and around two-twenty. He’d been in shape at some point but had since gone soft, and he had the look of someone who hadn’t lived an easy life.

The dingy white T-shirt he wore showed off the shitty tattoos on his right forearm. Well-worn jeans and scuffed black motorcycle boots completed his attire. He was clean-shaven, but Matt would bet his life savings that the guy had recently sported a full beard. The tan lines on his face were a dead giveaway.

In a tone that was a million times more casual than he felt, Matt said to Gavin, “Man, I’m starving. Chow down. Then we’ll talk.”

Gavin grabbed his fork and scooped up some hash browns, but he didn’t eat.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Martha said to the man, handing him back a photo. “I don’t recognize the girl. We’ve had a number of different waitresses over the last few years, but none that look like her. I can show my husband if you want, but his memory’s not so great these days.”

Matt caught Gavin’s stare and knew the hard look on his friend’s face matched his own. Ray’s Diner hadnothad a number of different waitresses over the last few years. Aside from Scarlet, the six other members of the waitstaff had been employed here for years, some for decades. As for her comment about Ray? Eighty-plus years and all, the man’s mind remained a steel trap.

“Are you sure?” the man asked, waving the photo. “This was taken seven or eight years ago, so she’d be in her early twenties now. She’s blond in the photo, but she used to change her hair color a lot.”

“No, sorry,” Martha said. “She looks like a sweet girl, though. I hope you find her.”

“You’resureyou haven’t had anyone working here that looks like her? Five-two? Petite?”

Matt’s eyes tore across the restaurant, but there was no sign of Scarlet. Who stood five-two and had black hair liberally streaked with pink, teal, and purple.

What the hell does this fucker want?

“Well, of course I have a petite little waitress who works here.” Martha chuckled, taking the man’s empty plate. “But I’ve known little Scarlet since she was an itty-bitty girl.”

The hairs on Matt’s arms rose. Another bald-faced lie.

“Are there other diners on the island?” Frustration laced the man’s tone.

Martha shook her head. “Not on Hudson. However, I know there are dozens over on Whidbey Island next door.”

---