Page 24 of Long Gone

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I haven’t seen you so excited since we won the marching band contest in El Dorado back in junior year.”

“Umm…” I said dryly, “I think you’re confusing me with yourself. I was in my moody teenage girl stage and didn’t get excited about anything.”

“You were excited about winning the contest,” he said with a grin. “You just remember it differently because you thought you were too cool to care.”

“Y’all,” Louise said, holding up a hand in protest. “Who gives a shit about a band contest from the dark ages?”

“Says you,” Nate said haughtily. “We had a huge rivalry with Magnolia, and we kicked their asses. It was a coup.”

“I’m sure it was the sweep of the century,” she mocked. “And I agree that Harper’s got a sparkle in her eyes.” She leaned forward. “Which is why I guessed she’d joined Tinder. A guy can definitely give a girl sparkly eyes.”

“Enough about my eyes,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t have lunch and I’m starving. I’ll go to the counter to order our food. The new waitress looks like she’s got her hands full. Dinner’s on me too.”

Malcolm must have hired new waitstaff, because I didn’t recognize the young woman standing at a table of about eight guys who were all showing off for her. Malcolm had taken notice behind the counter, and from the way he was eyeing the table, he was ready to step in if things got out of hand. I could see why they were interested. She was blond and blue-eyed, and filled out her Scooter’s T-shirt nicely, but the guys must be newbies because everyone knew Malcolm didn’t let customers treat his staff disrespectfully and their behavior was about an inch shy of crossing the line. Stepping over it was a sure-fire way to not only get kicked out on your ass but get a lifetime ban.

“Look at you, big spender,” Louise said, giving my arm a slight push.

I laughed. “I’m making fifteen dollars an hour. So don’t be thinking you can order a steak dinner.”

“Scooter’s doesn’t have steak,” Nate countered.

I gave him a dry look.

“Oh. I’m being too literal again.”

Louise touched her fingertip to her nose while pointing to him with the other hand.

“Just tell me what you want,” I said, “and I’ll go order for us.”

After they gave me their requests, I headed up to the bar, straight to Malcolm, who still seemed to be fixed on watching the new waitress and the table full of men.

“Detective,” he said dryly as I rested a hand on the counter, his gaze not moving off the men.

“Malcolm,” I said just as dryly. “You too busy giving death stares to take an order? Or should I head over to Misti?”

He still kept his gaze on the table. “I can watch the table and make a Jack and Coke at the same time.”

“Too bad my order’s more detailed than that, and a Jack and Coke’s not on the list.”

He turned to face me, and just like this afternoon, my stomach flip-flopped. There was no denying James Malcolm was a handsome man. His dark brown eyes seemed to see past my flesh and deep into my soul. I suspected he’d used that gaze to control his underlings and his enemies when he’d been an active crime boss. He was still wearing the solid black T-shirt I’d seen under his jacket, and the ends of the short sleeves were stretched by the bulging muscles underneath. Crow’s feet surrounded the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks and chin were covered in dark stubble mixed with a few white hairs.

“You ready, or do you need to write it down?” I asked mischievously. “You know what they say about short-term memory when we get older.” I was only eight years younger than him, but I couldn’t resist.

One of his eyebrows arched menacingly, but then he cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I think I’ll be okay.”

I gave him the order, which was incredibly easy—a cheeseburger, a chicken sandwich, and buffalo wings, all with fries.

“Got it,” he said, but when I didn’t head back to the table, he said, “Wanting the Jack and Coke pretty bad, huh?”

I hated that he was right. I’d been eyeing the bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the counter behind him, but I’d rather die than admit it. “You don’t know shit, Malcolm. I was about to ask you if you know anything about Hugo Burton or Brett Colter.”

His left eye twitched and he turned serious. “Let me get this order in first.”

So he did know about them, or at least one of them. Asking him had been a long shot. I’d done it partly on impulse and partly to distract him from the drink he knew I wanted. But he seemed to know a lot about the activities in the county, so it seemed like a worthwhile shot.

He headed to the window to the kitchen to place the order, then came back and stood in front of me, casting a quick glance at the table full of men before giving me his attention.

“Why are you asking about Burton and Colter?”

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