Page 112 of The Last Close Call

“Where do you think he’s going this early?” Bryan asked as they got into the car.

“No idea.” They had no indication of where Anderson worked or if he even had a job. Or he could be getting the hell out of town this morning.

“Check in with Heidi,” Jack said.

As if on cue, her voice came over the radio.

“All right, he’s moving east, toward the interstate.”

Jack cursed.

“Okay, we’ve got a turn signal,” she added. “He’s turning south on the frontage road. I repeat, south on the frontage road.”

Bryan looked at him. “Step on it.”

Jack hit the gas.

***

Bryan spotted Heidi’s car at the edge of the truck stop parking lot. She looked inconspicuous—just a shadowy silhouette behind the wheel. Bryan tugged down the brim of his baseball hat and walked between two big rigs fueling up on diesel. The restaurant was crowded, and Bryan hoped he was going to be able to get a table with a view of the subject.

He and Jack had almost come to blows just now. Jack had wanted this job for himself, but Bryan had insisted that Jack couldn’t follow Anderson into a restaurant when he’d already been in a physical confrontation with the man. Yes, it had been dark at the time, but if Anderson had gotten a glimpse of him at some point, then Jack’s presence here now could blow everything.

Bryan pulled open the glass door and stepped into the warm alcove. He opened the inner door and held it for a pair of long-haul truckers.

As Bryan stepped into the restaurant, the smell of bacon hit him. His stomach grumbled, but he ignored it as he scanned the morning breakfast crowd. Anderson was seated midway down the counter facing the kitchen.

“Just one?”

A young server with curly dark hair grabbed a menu from a bin beside the register.

“Yeah, could I have that two-top table by the window?”

“Sure.” She ushered him through the dining room and sat him at a narrow table with a view of Anderson’s back.

“Coffee to start?” she asked.

“Sure. Thanks.”

She hurried off, and Bryan put his phone on the table beside a pair of syrup dispensers. He tapped a quick message to Jack and Heidi.

He’s on a stool at the counter.

Bryan surveyed the row of customers. Anderson had a mug in front of him, and he was hunched over something he was reading.

Alone? Jack asked.

Looks like, Bryan responded.

Bryan was still rattled by their argument, even though he’d won. Jack had demanded to be in here, even knowing it put the operation at risk, and Heidi had intervened over the radio to side with Bryan, which had pissed Jack off more. Jack was normally so even-keeled, and Bryan didn’t know what the hell his problem was—beyond the obvious fact that this drawn-out stakeout was shredding everyone’s patience.

The server returned with an empty mug and a coffee carafe. “What else can I get you?” she asked, filling the mug.

“Just this for now.”

She looked annoyed and started to walk away.

“Wait.” Bryan gave her a flirty smile even though he was pretty sure he looked like hell from his overnight in the van. “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

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