Page 66 of Rock and a Hard Place

Peter decided to call ahead after all, but couldn’t find a listing for Jill Munroe or Libby Sawyer.

He wanted to take the trip alone, but his mother wouldn’t allow it. He’d made a lot of headway in winning more freedom from his family, but this time his mom wouldn’t budge.

“You are not traipsing across the country by yourself. Either take Roger, or wait to see her at Red Rocks.”

So Roger it was. The next day, after flying into Atlanta, Peter and Roger drove to the tiny town of Pebble Creek. They drove down the quiet streets of the small town.

Libby was here, he felt certain.

“Are you going to keep driving up and down the main drag or are we going to stop and ask someone?” Roger asked.

“I don’t know. I thought this would be easier, and that I’d just bump into her.”

“We could call the local radio station and tell them Peter Jamieson’s here. That should bring her out, but I don’t think this town even has a radio station. How about the police station? They ought to know everyone in town.”

“No, Libby ran away. She doesn’t need the police in her business.” Peter pushed a hand through his hair and thought about how to find her. Knock door-to-door?

“In most small towns you go to the barbershop or the local diner if you want to know something,” Roger said.

“I hardly think she’s a regular at the barbershop. Let’s try for a coffee shop.”

He drove slowly and searched for a restaurant. A couple blocks farther, where the road split, sat a quaint little restaurant, the Fork in the Road. He and Roger shared a grin. This felt right.

Peter pulled into a parking spot. “Do you mind waiting here? I’d like to do this myself.”

“No problem, go ahead.” Roger leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, weary from their early morning flight.

Peter stepped out of the car and approached the front door of the restaurant. He combed his fingers through his hair to tidy it and smoothed down his T-shirt. A large wooden fork served as the handle for the front door. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened it.

Inside, the café looked like a throwback to the sixties.

A long counter and stools faced the kitchen. Booths with faded red seats occupied each wall. Curtains decorated with tiny cherries covered the windows.

The place was busy for such a small town. A heavyset older woman bustled by, her arms loaded down with plates. “Grab a seat anywhere you want.”

Peter wandered to the counter and sat on a stool. In front of him nested a napkin dispenser, ketchup and mustard bottles, and several menus in plastic sleeves. He gazed around the room, unsure where to begin. Should he start asking strangers if they knew Libby? Or Jill Munroe?

The waitress returned. “Do you know what you want, hon?” Her name tag read Penny.

“Uh, no,” he stuttered. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“I’ll be right with you.” Penny grabbed five plates from the kitchen counter and stacked them up her arm. With the other hand, she grabbed a coffeepot and disappeared.

Peter spun on his stool and watched her deliver the food to a family on the other side of the restaurant and then top off coffees. At the opposite end of the counter, he noticed an older gentleman reading a newspaper. Penny rushed past.

“Hold on one more sec,” she said. “Jerrold, you ready for a refill?” The man with the newspaper held up his cup. “You’re running around like a chicken with her head cut off today,” the man commented.

“Shorthanded for the next few days.” Penny returned the pot to the burner and approached Peter. “All right, what’ll you have?”

His hands began to sweat. Peter couldn’t believe how nervous he was. Talking to strangers never rattled him, but the thought of seeing Libby again made him jumpy. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. I think she lives here, but I don’t know where.”

The woman tidied the counter as he spoke. “Her name is Jill Munroe.” He held his breath.

The woman stopped and looked at him. “You’re looking for Jill?” Penny exchanged looks with the man at the end of the counter. He arched an eyebrow.

“Do you know her?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“Sure, I know Jill.” She hesitated. “But she’s off today.”

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