Page 43 of Shadow Sabotage
She punched me lightly on the arm, but then she laughed. “Aw, it’s alright. Can’t say I blame you on that one.”
“I’m starving,”Claire announced on the drive back toward town. “There’s a gas station coming up on the left. Pull over. They have great hot dogs.”
I glanced at the clock, realizing we’d worked straight through lunch. My stomach rumbled, thanks to Claire’s reminder.
But a gas station hot dog? I’d rather go hungry.
“Your mom will be serving dinner in a couple of hours. Wouldn’t you rather wait? It’s got to be better than gas station food.”
“So we’ll eat again in a couple of hours,” Claire said, shrugging. “That doesn’t fix my empty stomach now.”
“Alright,” I said, chuckling as I turned into the parking lot.
When I parked, Claire jumped out.
I didn’t follow.
She turned around and opened the door. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No, thanks. I’ll wait until dinner.”
“Ah,” she said, smirking. “I see. You’re a snob. Guess I should have realized, with those fancy boots and all.”
“I am not a snob.”
“What was your favorite food as a kid?” she asked, grinning.
I opened my mouth to answer, then realized all it would do was prove her point. Lobster was a staple in Maine, but it wasn’t exactly on most kids’ menus out west.
“Fine,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt. “We’ll eat hot dogs.”
“There you go,” she said, laughing as she led the way inside.
The clerk behind the counter greeted her by name, giving her a friendly smile before turning suspicious eyes toward me. Claire ordered for both of us, paid, then led me to a booth in the back and handed me mine.
I eyed it warily. It didn’t look terrible. It even smelled halfway decent.
Decent enough to make my stomach growl again.
Claire certainly seemed to be enjoying hers, and she couldn’t have terrible taste, since she’d grown up with Naomi Hawkins cooking her meals. I bit into the dog and was pleasantly surprised.
“Not bad,” I admitted. “Not quite as good as a New York dog, but… Not bad.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing. “Wow. First, you don’t even want to try one. Then, you have to compare it to the ones in NYC. You’re something else, Vance.”
It was the first time she’d called Vance, and the intimacy of it sparked unexpected pleasure.
“Right back at you, Claire.”
Her lips twisted into a teasing smile. I prepared for her next jab, but she surprised me, asking a personal question instead.
“Does your dad still live in the city?”
“No.” Normally, I’d leave it there. But she cocked her head, waiting for me to continue.
And I did.
“He moved to Wyoming right before I graduated college,” I explained. “That’s why I joined DCI after a few years as a detective with the NYPD.”
