Page 73 of That's Not My Name

“Up there,” Autumn says, pointing over my left shoulder. I turn in my seat and spot a tiny black camera mounted above the hallway to the bathroom. “How are you going to get to the footage?”

“Charm?”

Max laughs in my face. “Yeah okay. Good luck with that. I gotta pee.”

He jumps straight over my lap and lands on the linoleum like a goddamned gymnast. Grumpy Sandra watches him from the hostess station and gives him a glare that would have withered anyone who gave a fuck. Max disappears down the hallway, and she strides over to me and Autumn, ripping a piece of paper off her little order pad. She slaps it on the table.

“You ready for your check?” she asks.

Like we have a choice.

I pull out my wallet. I don’t have that much money on me after that last batch of fliers, but I have enough to cover the bill and a good tip. Iput my cash on the table, hoping to soften her mood. Autumn throws a five on top too, catching my eye like she had the same idea. Sandra takes it all to the register without saying a word.

When she returns with the change, I give her my best smile. “The rest is for you.”

She looks down at what’s left in her hand and frowns like this makes her happy, but she’s not thrilled about it. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” I say, standing. “I wondered if you might help us with something?”

She crosses her arms. “What?”

“Did you see a girl in here yesterday? Around lunchtime? About our age, green eyes, freckles, short dark brown hair.” I hold my hand to the bottom of my chin for length reference. She might have been here with an older man. “Left in a hurry?”

“What’s it to you?” Sandra asks.

Something about the way she holds herself feels protective. Like she knows who I’m talking about and doesn’t want to speak about her to strangers, which is both exciting and frustrating. Of course Lola would charm the waitress.

“She’s missing, and we’re trying to find her,” Autumn says. “We were wondering if you had any footage of her on the security system?”

Sandra glances at the camera, then glares at us. “I don’t know what you kids are up to, but I’ve had bad vibes from you since you walked in. I’m not telling you anything about her, or her dad—”

“That’s not her dad!” we both say again, exasperated.

“I’m not getting involved. If she’s really missing, then the police can get a warrant for the footage, but I’m not handing anything over to a bunch of random kids. You need to go.”

“Please,” Autumn says, in her softest, most Disney-princess voice. “She may be—”

Sandra shakes her head and stops Autumn mid-word. “Nope, I’m not doing this with you. Get out. I’m not messing around.”

Fuck.

I wish her a good day, and Autumn thanks her, but I don’t know what for. Sandra hasn’t been helpful or pleasant. Bad vibes? If she was going to get bad vibes about anyone, maybe it should have been the kidnapper she served lunch to yesterday.

We push out of the diner and walk to the Liberty. I don’t remember that Max isn’t with us until I pull on the passenger door. It’s locked. He has the keys.

“We still have the store,” Autumn says. “We know where we’re going next.”

I want to agree, but if we can’t collect any physical evidence, Roane won’t budge. We’re going to have to erase any room for doubt if we’re going to force his hand. Which means we’re probably shit out of luck.

We wait in the cold parking lot until Max finally strolls out the front door ten minutes later, whistling to himself. He flips his phone around in his hand as he walks. He looks…cheerful.And it annoys the shit out of me.

“How much do you love me?” he asks.

All I can see is that smile on his face. “Took you long enough. We’re kind of in a hurry here, remember? The thrift store closes in ten minutes.”

He clears his throat. “Isaid, how much do you love me?”

I glare at him.

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