Page 17 of Snow in Texas

Then back to the guy in the suit, his square, unattractive face and sloppy haircut.

The man reared back before cool professionalism slid into place. He had cop written all over him, but not in the way of the troopers back home. Colin had had plenty of run-ins with New Orleans’ finest in his youth, but they’d been solid blue-collar hardworking types, doing their jobs, giving a swamp rat kid a break when they could. This man possessed none of their good ol’ boy charm. This one stank of fed.

Even so, Colin got the best of him, surprised him, for that half a second before he pulled himself together. “Excuse me, I’m ordering,” he said. “You’ll have to go to the back of the line.” He turned back to Jenny, dismissing Colin.

“Right. Yeah. Jen, who is this?”

“Uh…” She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and straightened her shoulders, visibly forcing the panic from her features. “This is Agent Riley. ATF.”

ATF. Oh shit.

He grinned and layered on more Cajun charm. “Pleased to meet you, agent. You know, I’m kinda glad I ran into you. There’s something I always wanted to ask a federal agent.”

Fox arrived behind him and stepped on the heel of his boot in clear warning.

Riley let his eyes move down to the prospect patch stitched to the breast of Colin’s cut and then back up, lip curled. “Funny. There’s nothing I ever wanted to ask a white trash biker piece of shit.”

The restaurant went silent. Riley’s voice had carried, and suddenly, no one in Gabe’s was speaking, maybe not even breathing, silence broken only by the muted clatter of the kitchen.

Grin still firmly in place, Colin said, “Jenny, is he the reason I’m here today?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“Jen?”

“No,” she said on a deep exhale. “He’s not.”

Maybe not, but he’d rattled her regardless.

Colin took an exaggerated step to the side, so he was out of the way, but still at the counter. “Alright then. You take his order, baby, and I’ll just stand right here and make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”

“Shut up,” Fox hissed behind him. “I’m not bailing you out later, stupid yank.”

Colin braced his hands on the edge of the counter, still smiling like an idiot, and didn’t budge. Let Fox try and drag him away; he dared the asshole.

Jenny took another deep breath, cracked her knuckles, and poised her fingers above the register. Her voice was dim. “What can I get for you?”

Slowly, the chatter resumed, starting up slow like frightened crickets after a storm, then swelling back to a normal volume. Amidst the noise, Colin couldn’t hear what Riley said, but he saw him lean forward, just before he took his food, and whisper something to Jenny.

~*~

Agent Riley didn’t stick around, but Jenny couldn’t seem to shake his visit off. Fifteen minutes after he was gone, Colin watched her untie her apron, trade places at the register with another girl, and head out the back staff door. She was taking her break, and she probably wanted to be alone.

Too bad.

He gave her a twenty second head start, then followed, ducking down the rear hallway and through the exit into a dirt-paved back lot where the staff cars and dumpsters threw heat mirages into the clear afternoon sunlight. There was a rickety wood bench with peeling paint, and that was where Jenny sat, pitched forward at the waist, working her fingers together in nervous twitches.

Colin decided not to spook her. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, waiting beside the bench for acknowledgement.

She tossed him a fast glance, expression still shattered from before, and sighed. “Why not.”

He thought the wood slats might give beneath his weight, and perched carefully, mimicking her posture.

She stared out across the lot, gaze distant, lower lip trembling each time she inhaled.

Colin fished his smokes and lighter from inside his cut and offered them. “This always helps me when I’m shook up.”

She didn’t hesitate, pulling one out and lighting it up. “Thanks,” she said as she exhaled. “Shit, I haven’t smoked in a long time.”

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