Page 5 of ELITE Justice
“Are you all right?” The new Guardian employee held her gaze.
She felt a slight pressure on her wrist’s pulse point. He was checking her heartbeat. Yes, it was racing a little, but not at NASCAR speeds. This incident was nothing compared to what she’d been through in an Afghani operating room, or in a medical chopper after picking up a wounded warrior.
Gwen pasted on her best no-worries smile. “I’m fine, but thank you for your concern.” She extracted her wrist. “I’ll get that coffee for you. Just have a seat.”
Rubbing her wrist where the man had touched her, she tried to erase the tingling that lingered. She fled to the machine behind the counter to grab two pots, one loaded and the other decaf.
An hour later, Gwen escaped to the tiny office and collapsed into the cracked Naugahyde chair. Before she kicked her sore feet onto the edge of the abused wooden desk, she glanced through the two-way mirror at the nearly empty dining room. The staff was good. One of the waitresses was right behind the bus boy, spraying and wiping off tables, bench seats, and chairs, while Jacki swept up a crumbly mess left by a toddler.
“Quite a day.” The cook leaned on the doorjamb.
“That’s an understatement, Luis.” Gwen leaned her head toward the kitchen. “You good out there?”
“Yeah. Cody is in and prepping for supper. He’s covering the grill while I take a break. I just finished cleaning up lunch.” Her head cook slouched into the worn chair across the desk that was older than both of them put together. “You’re doing a good job, Gwen. You know that, right? Suze and Jim would be proud of the way you handled that uppity bitch today.”
She glanced toward the dining room again and hoped she wasn’t screwing up too bad. This was her aunt and uncle’s sole income and had been for all their years of married life. “I hope so.” She turned to face Luis. “With all the crap happening here in Dallas these days, I was afraid people wouldn’t want to eat in the same place as the police. But to tell you the truth, I don’t care anymore. I was so glad to have that wall of blue behind me when Bitsy pulled out that stupid pink gun.” Gwen shook her head. “First responders like those cops, and the firefighters and paramedics from the station down the street—they’re the bread and butter of this diner. Can you believe the chief of police ate here today?”
“Yeah. He comes in now and then.” Luis leaned way back and checked the kitchen staff. “Suze told me he used to come in every night and get the special. Twenty-so years ago, this was his beat. His men still look out for us today. I haven’t had to get out Little Louis in a year.”
Gwen smiled at his reference to the Louisville Slugger he kept under the front counter. He hadn’t mentioned the Baretta .45 caliber that was next to it though. That was her source of protection.
Young voices caught her attention, and she looked at the clock. When had it gotten to be so late? She watched as Jacki showed several plaid-clad girls from the nearby Catholic school to a corner booth. Minutes later, a group of teenage boys in jeans and t-shirts occupied a nearby table.
Luis smiled. “I remember those days back in Puerto Rico.”
“I thought you were too busy playing baseball to chase skirts,” Gwen chided.
“There’s always time for pursuing pretty little things when you’re that age.” He admitted with a shrug, “But I played a lot of ball. Knew it was my ticket out of there.”
Luis had been recruited straight to the minors from high school by the Texas Rangers. He’d played a year for the Frisco Rough Riders then got bumped up to the Round Rock Express before getting called to the big show. On his first hit, in front of a crowd of thousands, he slid into second base and his shin bone shattered when the baseman fell on him. His rising star sank so fast it hit bottom before he’d sweated through his first jersey.
Obviously changing the subject, Luis asked, “Have you heard from Suze and Jim lately?”
“Yeah, I got a brief email asking about the diner.” She rolled her eyes. She’d taken the job to help her middle-aged aunt and uncle so they could take their first vacation in twenty-seven years. They’d failed to mention that their trip to Alaska was in a motorhome and would take three months. At least it got her mother off her ass. Gwen really hadn’t done much since returning from Afghanistan, except eat and cat nap. And work out.
She was at a crossroads in her life. After everything she’d done as an Army nurse, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back into that career. Overseas, she’d been given so much more responsibility and latitude in decision-making than she’d ever be allowed in a stateside hospital. Returning to an operating room where there were so many rules, personalities, and the concern was more about money and protecting the hospital and surgeon from a lawsuit than the long-term well-being of patients…well, it might not be the right place for her anymore. That restrictive work environment had no appeal now. She still had plenty of time to decide on what to do with her life. She was expected to run this diner for at least another six to eight weeks.
Gwen smiled. “Suze has become the queen of Facebook and posted a dozen pictures of Bald Eagles tearing up a McDonald’s bag of burgers as a family of tourists cowered against their car. Suze said they were from Alabama.”
“I saw that, too.” Luis checked the kitchen once again. “An Eagle is a lot bigger than I ever thought.”
“I guess they are all over the place up there.” She glanced at Luis. “You saw they’re in Vancouver, Canada, right?”
“Yeah.” The corner of Luis’s mouth kicked up. “Suze said in her email to me that they’re taking the AlCan Highway to Alaska and bitched about how many motorhome parts they were told they needed to carry because it’s so desolate out there. Thank God James is a handyman. He’s fixed these old stoves a dozen times.”
“Let’s just hope that translates over to mechanics on their motorhome.”
CHAPTER3
As Gwen staredat the office computer screen displaying an order of fresh vegetables, Luis’s wish list next to her keyboard, her mind traveled the now well-worn path to thoughts of the light-haired man who worked for Guardian Security. Although Quin had dropped in for lunch yesterday, the new guy hadn’t shown up again.Damn it. There was something about him that had her distracted all too often in the past week.
Movement caught her eye, and Gwen checked the floor through the two-way mirror. The body language of the teens she’d seen at least twice a week since she’d started working at the neighborhood diner raised her awareness. Furtive glances toward the door made her look up to the convex corner mirror in time to watch five, dark-haired teens with light brown skin enter and survey the restaurant. She pegged them as the children of the Middle-Eastern refugees that had recently moved into the neighborhood.
They slid into a booth close to the door.
Well, that’s a new twist.
The high-school-aged boys at a table near the girls had straightened their backs and taken on a cocky posture, as though declaring the young women belonged to them.
