Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(22)

They nodded to Rodney and Dave and walked down to the other end of the bar and sat down.

Debbie walked over with two napkins and smiled at them. “Morning, gentlemen. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a Coke and a burger,” the fat one said, rubbing his face with his hand. “Extra fries.”

The skinny one raised a finger and said, “Same here.”

“Sure thing.” She wrote down their order, dropped it off in the kitchen, and got them their Cokes.

The skinny one yawned and rubbed his hands through his hair. He lit a cigarette and exhaled the first drag with a whispered groan. “Oh, man, what a freaking nightmare.” He sounded like he’d just been diagnosed with lung cancer and been given four hours to live.

The kitchen bell twanged and Debbie grabbed their burgers and set them down in front of them. “Anything else I can get you guys?”

“No. We’re good,” the fat one mumbled through a mouthful of fries. “Oh. I do have one question, though. We forgot to tip our waitress last night. Is she working today?”

“Yeah, Mary Sue comes in at four.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, opened his mouth wide enough that Debbie could see his tonsils, and shoved the burger in with both hands. Maybe Jack’s not so bad after all…

Debbie turned and walked away. Hmmm… that was odd. After they’d closed last night, Mary Sue had told her that “those three guys were asses, but at least they tipped well.”

After the lunch crowd emptied out, she grabbed her phone, typed a quick message, and hit send.





24





I was going through Sammy’s smartphone and reading his texts while holding it inside the lead-shielded bag. It was cumbersome work, but I had to make sure his phone wasn’t picked up by a cell tower.

A new text alert went off on my phone. It was from Debbie. My heart rate sped up and I smiled. I hadn’t heard from her since last night, and I was getting a little worried about us. I swiped and read the text. Shit. Not what I’d expected. I’d assumed that it was an “I miss you and can’t wait to jump your hot body” text.

Instead, I got a simple “Call me. Now.”

I did, and in a workmanlike fashion, she filled me in on her lunchtime visit from the two stooges. Then she hung up.

I continued going through Sam’s phone and reading his texts. Most of them were boring everyday stuff, with a low-IQ twist to them. Around three thirty, I turned off his phone and closed up the lead-shielded bag. I jumped in my pickup and headed towards Summit.

My plan was simple. Thanks to HFS and my conversation with Debbie, I knew that hammerheads one and two would be at the Red Barn after four this afternoon to interrogate Mary Sue. I needed to observe them and make sure she was okay, but based on what I’d read on Sammy’s phone, it didn’t look good. The dumbass had told his stooges what he was up to last night, even mentioning her by name. Of course he’d spelled her name wrong. I shook my head in disbelief. I mean, come on, how could you possibly spell Mary Sue wrong? Poor bastard must have been dyslexic…

I arrived at the Red Barn a few minutes before four and parked on Charlotte Valley Road. From my stakeout position, I could see the parking lot, and there was no sign of Ostrich Boy’s SUV. The sun would be setting in about half an hour and the dusk lighting lent a peaceful ambience to the whole scene. Unfortunately for the inner photographer in me, the gravel parking lot had no lights, so I had to go inside the Red Barn and wait.

I walked in and spotted Debbie behind the bar right away. She didn’t notice me, so I took a seat at a table on the other side of the room next to a small window that overlooked the parking lot. Although the lot had no lighting, I could see cars as they came and went, and the single outdoor light next to the entrance was bright enough for me to be able to see faces right before a person entered.

I looked over at Debbie, a mild knot in my stomach. She was chatting with one of the corrections officers from the shock camp, who was parked on a stool in the corner. My corner. I watched them for a few minutes.

She preened nonstop, tossing her hair, redoing her ponytail. Her breasts drew his eyes like magnets to high-grade steel whenever she looked away to see if anyone needed a refill. He especially liked when she reached down into the cooler, the one in front of my stool, to grab a cold beer for a customer. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed she was doing it in slow motion. He inched forward in his seat, stretching his neck to gawk at her cleavage. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped so far I thought that he was gonna whack it on the bar top and knock himself out.

My neck heated up, and I had to remind myself that I had bigger things to worry about besides a girlfriend who happened to have a job that demanded flirting. If only she wasn’t so freaking good at it. Or so hot. I silently vowed that my next girlfriend would be repulsive to Shrek. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about men lining up to hit on her like they did with Debbie.

“Well, look who it is.” Mary Sue came over and interrupted my self-inflicted torture. Her gait was tense and her face stoic. “Long time no see.” She had an icy mug with my name all over it in bold. She put down a Budweiser coaster and placed my beer on it. I grabbed it.

“Yeah, how are you?”

“Fine. But I think we might have a problem.”

“I know, Debbie told me what happened at lunch. Just stay chill, I’ll handle everything.” I tipped my mug to her and winked.