Page 55 of Reaper Unhinged
He thinks I’m doing him a favor. I sigh. “You’re here because you’re smart and you’re diplomatic, and Hunter won’t be threatened by you.”
He nods. “I know. I’m still grateful for the opportunity.”
It hits me that maybe I need to look at Bobby’s role at the pack house. He’d been brought in as a grunt, but that was before…before Fee opened my eyes to the wrongness of it. Bobby is bright, and intelligence is a powerful weapon.
I pop the lock on the door and climb out of the van. The diner looks empty, but then breakfast has just finished, and it’s a weekday; most humans will be at work.
There are posters stuck to the windows advertising rental space and screaming that help is wanted. My gaze slides over a call for blood donations. The logo is strange—a snake eating its own tail.
The bell above the door rings as we step through. It smells of bacon, coffee, and muffins. There’s a waitress wiping tables and another behind the counter. They both stop to stare, and then they exchange glances and the one wiping tables beams at me and strolls over, hips swaying.
I stifle a sigh because I recognize flirty when I see it, and I’m in no mood, but I need information, and I’ve been told my smile has magical properties.
I relax my facial muscles and show her my pearly whites. “`Hi, I was hoping you could help me.”
“Of course, anything.” She doesn’t even look at Bobby.
“I’m looking for a friend of mine. I believe he came here a few days ago.”
She makes an O with her mouth. “We get a lot of customers.”
“Oh, you’d recall this one,” Bobby says. “Tall, dark hair, intense dark eyes, and Adonis vibe, dripping with sex appeal…”
What the fuck? I stare at Bobby. Who is this person?
The waitress tears her gaze from me and focuses on Bobby with a grin. “Oh, yes, I remember him. Sweet guy.”
Sweet?
“He sat in booth four. He tipped well. He had three teens with him.” She winces. “They looked rough, like they’d been sleeping on the streets. He bought them breakfast, and I heard him call a shelter on their behalf.”
“Do you know which one?” Bobby asks.
She looks sheepish. “I think I may have heard him say Finley Street. It’s a couple of blocks from here.”
Thank goodness for nosy waitstaff. “Did he leave with the teens?”
“No, he left first. The teens left afterward, but they spent a while reading the posters on the window. I had to ask them to move on, they were blocking the door, you know.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you some coffee?” She beams up at me. “I’m on break in five minutes…”
It’s an invitation, and I allow my smile to drop. “No, thank you.”
“But thanks for the help,” Bobby says as I head for the exit.
“Excuse me,” the woman behind the counter says.
I look over my shoulder.
She smiles tentatively, her gaze flicking to the waitress before coming back to me as if she’s nervous about speaking.
“Yes?”
“They did leave with your friend. The teens did.”
“No, they didn’t, Mimi. He left first.” The waitress rolls her eyes.
