Page 52 of Rebel

I glared at him. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Do you mind if I ask where you were on the twenty-second of last month?”

“That was a Friday, right?” When I nodded, he said, “The same place I am every fucking Friday night. Having pizza with my family. They always want to go to that fucking kids’ place with the animatronics. God, I hate that place. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, but the place is always stuffed to gills with kids and most of them act like feral animals.”

My eyes shifted from him to Celt and back again, because this fucker had an answer for everything. “You expect me to believe all that?”

He gave me the biggest smirk ever. “I don’t particularly give a shit if you believe me or not. You’re not a lawman or anyone I’m obligated to answer to. The pizza place has security cameras. If you want to play detective, go check it out. Just leave me the hell alone.”

I leaned over and lowered my voice. “I will definitely check it out. Here’s the thing, if I find that you’re lying to me, our next conversation will involve less talking and more me beating your ass.”

“Are ye listenin’, sonny boy?” Celt said darkly.

He glanced at Celt to the right and rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna need more than one Irishman to back you up if you plan to kick my ass.”

When I lunged at him, Storm was behind me and jerked me straight back and off the barstool. “Leave it. We can kick his ass anytime. We need to verify what he’s telling us. I’m almost hungry enough to actually eat their pizza.”

Celt chuckled, “Let’s get finished as soon as possible. I want to get back to the clubhouse and feckin’ decompress.”

“I’ll second that,” I told him. The idea of spending time with Lacey was compelling, so hopefully our business at the pizza place wouldn’t take long.

***

None of us had to look up the address of Chummy Cheese Pizza and Puppets, as it was a long-standing local favorite. Every kid who grew up in and around Griffinsford knew exactly where it was located. I’d never been before, firstly because I didn’t have kids, and secondly, because puppets freak me the hell out. As do clowns—and if that joker at the door came any closer, then I was not gonna be responsible for my actions.

When we walked in, one of the servers immediately came up to Celt with a smile on her face. “Didn’t think I’d see you back here again what with Dusty going off to college and all.” She started leading us to a table.

Celt responded, “Yeah, Jean, my Dusty really did love this place. How long have ye been working here, lassie? I’ll bet ye know every kid in this town by name.”

She grinned up at him. “I’ll have been here seventeen years come December. And I do know most every kid in Griffinsford. It might be a small and insignificant claim to fame, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

We sat down, and Celt kept talking to Jean. “Do ye perchance know the Shepard family?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, we all know them. Let’s just say we flip a coin to see who has to serve them.”

“Troublemakers, are they?”

“The kids? No, they’re fine. It’s the parents that are a pain in the ass. All they do is argue and yell at the kids. They complain about the food, hardly ever leave a tip, and are just exhausting to deal with.” Glancing around, she added, “I probably shouldn’t talk about a customer that way. If my manager heard me, I’d be in serious trouble.”

Celt told her, “Yer taking to friends, lassie. We’re not gonna rat ye out, especially not for being honest.”

When her worried expression faded away and she took our order, Celt said, “Just one more thing if ye don’t mind.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I was wondering, when was the last time ye saw the Shepard family?”

“They come in every single Friday, rain or shine. The mother, Marlene, told me the kids get to come as a reward for not getting into trouble during the week and also because it gives her the day off from cooking.”

“Do you happen to remember if they were here on the twenty-second of last month? It was a Friday,” I asked.

A wary expression crossed her face. “What’s this about?”

“We’re just trying to figure out where Mark was on that day.”

She looked pensive for a moment and then admitted, “I didn’t work that day. But I can probably put you in contact with the server who covered my shift.”

“It would be great if you could do that,” I said.

She agreed, “Alright, I’ll bring you my colleague’s contact information shortly.” She started to turn around but stopped herself. “I don’t think you understand how dedicated they are to spending Fridays here. I’ve never known them to miss a day, except if they go out of state for vacation.”

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