Page 120 of Things We Hide from the Light
Naomi gasped, releasing a cloud of chardonnay-scented breath. “I totally forgot! We had an idea on who you could talk to about where Duncan Hugo might hide a car.”
“Really? Who?”
“Grim,” Naomi said.
“What’s a grim?”
“He’s a motorcycle club leader…er, boss? Maybe prime minister? Anyway, he knows everything that happens,” Naomi said.
“He knew where Naomi was when she got kidnapped because he was watching Duncan Hugo,” Sloane filled in.
“Also, he’s super nice and taught me how to play poker,” Naomi added.
“How do I reach this motorcycle club prime minister Grim?” I asked.
“I have his number. Or a number. I never called it, but he gave it to me,” Naomi explained.
Sloane’s eyes lit up as if inspiration had just struck. “You guys! I know this place with the best pecan pie in the universe.”
Naomi squealed. “Ilovepie.”
“Is it within the tristate area?” I asked.
I returnedto the table just as the server delivered three slices of what admittedly looked like a pretty damn good pecan pie.
“Did you talk to sexy, dangerous biker guy?” Sloane asked.
“I did not.” I’d called the number Naomi gave me, but after three rings, there was a beep. I’d left a vague message requesting a call back, not even knowing if it was recording what I said.
“Ohmygoodness,” Naomi said with her fork still in her mouth. “This is thebestpie ever.”
I sat down and was just picking up my fork when my phone rang. I looked at the screen.
“Shit.”
“Is it him?” my friends demanded in high-pitched unison.
“It’s not,” I assured them and slid out of my chair again.
“Hey, Lewis,” I answered, heading past the host station to the vestibule. “How’s it going?”
“Great. Good. Okay. Well, kind of shit actually,” my coworker said.
Guilt manifested itself as an instant tension headache. “I heard you were back to work.”
“Desk duty,” he clarified. “Which is part of the problem. I have a situation here and need your help.”
Yet another reason why I didn’t do relationships.
“What do you need, Lew?”
“Yeah, so remember that time I jumped off a roof and broke my ass?”
I winced. “I remember.” Vividly.
“And remember how you said if you could do anything to help me, you would?”
“Vaguely,” I said through clenched teeth. Behind me, Naomi and Sloane had struck up a conversation with an elderly couple wearing matching sweatshirts.
