Page 57 of Fire Harbor

Linus nodded. “I hate to think what might’ve happened if Farley had been here alone. This guy might’ve hurt my dog.”

“Do you think the break-ins have anything to do with the serial murders?”

“I don’t know. Why would a cold-stone killer start breaking into houses?”

“Maybe he lost his place to live through an eviction or something. Look, why don’t you stay here while I get that breakfast I promised.”

Linus surveyed the broken items in the kitchen. “I’d like to start cleaning up. Maybe Theo will be here sooner rather than later.”

She looped her arm through his. “I doubt the burglar will come back while we’re eating breakfast. My treat. Come on, let’s indulge ourselves with the Thursday morning special.”

“That includes a large stack of pancakes, doesn’t it?”

“All you can eat. What do you say? What better way to get your mind off all this than sugar overload, carbs, and protein?”

The Hilltop Diner looked like a time capsule, a vibrant throwback to an era of jukeboxes, poodle skirts, and greased hair.

As soon as they opened the door, the scent of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. The smell of scrambled eggs and just-baked pies drifted from Max Bingham’s kitchen.

Lake took in the recent renovations. She almost didn’t recognize the restaurant she’d known since childhood. All the memories came rushing back. She’d been dropping in after school to eat ice cream cones as far back as she could remember. And later, as a teenager, on lazy summer days when she used her babysitting money to order a thick chocolate milkshake to take to the beach. Then there were times her dad would treat them to Max’s greasy burgers for dinner, served with the crispiest fries on the planet. Add in Margie’s coconut cream pies for dessert or all the crisp, fall Sunday mornings her father had brought her here for pumpkin pancakes before heading to church and it’s a wonder she hadn’t gained fifty pounds during her formative years.

She couldn’t believe the changes, couldn’t believe that Ryder McLachlan had finally talked Margie into renovating the inside. Gone were the ratty furnishings—the sticky duct tape patches that would cling to your clothes or bare legs if you were wearing shorts. Gone were the dirty walls and old floor.

But still steeped in the reminiscent era of the 1950s, The Hilltop Diner continued to show off a vibrant color palette with turquoise bar stools, a glittery white countertop with black and red banding across the bottom, accented in shiny stripes of chrome. Margie had brought in brand new vinyl booths and alternated the colors in flaming red and white and glittery blue and white patterns. Turquoise tables and chairs gleamed with a silvery shine. She’d kept the same black and white checkered pattern on the floor, except now the linoleum was made from durable, anti-bacterial vinyl. The newly plastered walls were no longer smeared with grease stains but now sported retro movie posters and pictures of Hollywood stars like James Dean, Elvis, Lauren Bacall, and Humphrey Bogart.

As they sat across from each other in one of the blue booths, Buddy Holly crooned in the background about pretty Peggy Sue. A few patrons nodded in greeting, while others merely waved.

Margie welcomed them with a smile and new menus. “What do you think of the place?”

“I feel like I’ve been transported back in time,” Linus declared.

“That’s the feeling I wanted to convey,” Margie noted with pride. “It’s amazing what new fixtures and replacing all the old stuff can do for a new attitude. Max and I get up every day and love coming to work.”

“As long as Max can still whip up the same great pancakes, I’m all for it,” Lake remarked. “You even got new tunes on the jukebox.”

“Our regular customers and tourists seem to like the super oldies. But we dish up the same great breakfast, lunch, and dinner we’ve always served,” Margie promised. “A new refrigeration system and new grill aren’t as impressive as the new furniture, though, huh? What can I get you two for breakfast?”

Lake didn’t even need to look at the menu. “A small stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon for me with coffee and lots of creamer.”

“I’ll take the large stack with scrambled eggs, coffee, and a tall orange juice.”

“You got it,” Margie said before walking back toward the grill to give Max their order.

Out of earshot, Linus leaned in and whispered, “I don’t miss the sticky feel of the seats.”

“Or the sticky menus,” Lake offered with a wink, suddenly thinking about her own old home. “I guess it proves there comes a time when you have to spend money on a renovation.”

“You’re considering a major overhaul at home?”

“I’ve been setting aside money for a while now since Dad put the deed in my name. Let’s face reality: My place is a lot older than this diner. It might be nearing time to consider replacing the mid-century-era plumbing.”

“It’s not so bad. At least you get hot water. In my old place in Sausalito, the hot water heater was so old the bottom rusted out, and I had to deal with it leaking every day. It was one of those places where the hot water heater was located in the attic. The landlord refused to replace it.”

“I can see why you wanted out of there.”

Margie brought over their coffee and the fresh orange juice. “Food will be right out.”

“Thanks,” Lake said as she stirred cream into her coffee. “Uh-oh. I think I forgot to turn off the coffee pot back home. I ran out of there so fast after getting your text,”

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