“It’ll be worth it when you’re Dr. Choi.”
Jessica smiled. “Then I just have to find a full-time job.”
“That’s okay; you can bring Simon here. I’m sure Antonio wouldn’t mind him helping out.”
Jessica laughed as she walked away to give Antonio my order. She returned a few minutes later with my cup of steaming-hot tea. “Antonio says he hopes you choke on it,” Jessica told me, barely keeping a straight face.
“He’s really cleaned up his usual language,” I replied.
Before Jessica could reply, the door to the diner opened, and she turned to look at the newcomer.
I followed her gaze and watched the man stand in the doorway staring at Jessica. He was over six feet tall, which put him several inches above my own five feet eight, although he wasn’t as broad across the shoulders as I was. He removed a red hat and gloves, revealing a bald head and heavily tattooed hands.
I looked up at Jessica and saw the fear in her eyes.
“Jess?” I asked softly.
“It’s okay,” she said, turning back to me and forcing a smile.
I liked Jessica Choi a lot. She was a smart, kind, and interesting woman. Also, her grandfather, Dr. Daniel Kuro, was one of only two people in town who knew exactly who I was and why I was here. I trusted Daniel with my life and owed him just as much. And while Jessica didn’t know the truth about me, she treated me as if I were one of the family, and for that I was eternally grateful.
Jessica walked over to the newcomer. Their conversation was short, and they were too far away from me for any of their whispered words to meet my ears, but I could see that Jessica was upset and angry.
She motioned for the man to wait and went to talk to Antonio in the kitchen before gathering her coat and hat and leaving with the stranger.
A second waitress brought me my food. I was concerned about Jessica and considered following them to check that she was okay. However, Antonio left the kitchen and went out the back door of the diner, making me feel better. If anything was going to happen, I was confident that Antonio could deal with it.
The food looked amazing. The chorizo scrambled egg sat on one half of the plate, while the other half was filled with a mild salsa that Antonio refused to tell me the recipe of. A stack of warm tortillas had been placed on a separate plate, and the whole thing smelled of heaven itself.
I took a bite of the food and sighed in appreciation. Antonio was a grumpy bastard, but he sure as hell knew how to cook. But even the great food couldn’t distract me for long; glancing to the rear entrance of the diner, I put my fork down beside my plate.
“Goddamn it.” Getting to my feet, I grabbed my warm outdoor clothes and headed toward the rear exit.
“What are you doing?” the waitress who had served me asked.
“I’m going to go see what your boss is doing before anyone gets in trouble,” I told her.
The look of relief on her face was reason enough for me to know I was doing the right thing. Everyone else in the diner was either engrossed in their own lives or watching me cautiously. They clearly wondered what was happening but didn’t want to be involved in it, just in case it turned out to be something unpleasant.
I pushed open the rear exit and took a face full of cold air before stepping outside and walking down the ramp to the staff parking area at the rear of the property. There were four cars, including Jessica’s own black Ford Ranger pickup and Antonio’s silver Mitsubishi Evo. There were no signs of either owner, except fresh tracks in the snow that led around to a nearby alleyway, which, in turn, led to a large field behind the diner.
Following the tracks was easy enough, and it didn’t take long to hear voices. As I drew closer, the voices became more distinguishable: three men, one of whom was Antonio. The other two were . . . unknowns. I didn’t like unknowns; they made me nervous. Exiting the alley into the large field, I spotted Antonio sitting on a bench with the two strangers standing over him.
They looked over at me as I approached, and one of them—a large white man with a bald head and bushy black beard—turned toward me, casually opening his jacket to show the pistol he held. A wordless threat.
“Hey,” I said jovially. “It’s a bit cold to be having a chat out here.”
“Go away,” the second man snapped. While his gun-wielding friend stood over six and a half feet tall and probably weighed over twenty-five stone, this one was barely taller than me and considerably less broad. He had military-style short dark hair but no obvious weapons. Like his friend, he was white and wore a thick red jacket, although his was still zipped up. Didn’t mean he didn’t have a weapon; it just meant if things went bad, he was second on my list of problems.
“I’m just here to tell the chef how good his food is,” I said, looking over at Antonio. “How can I possibly repay such an excellent breakfast?”
“It’s okay,” Antonio said with a forced smile. “I’m good. Go finish your food, Nate.”
“Yes, Nate,” the shorter of the two men said. “Go finish your food.”
“Where’s Jessica?” I asked, ignoring the man.
“She’s just having a nice conversation with our boss,” the gun owner told me. “You can see her from here.”
He gestured across the field to where Jess stood at the far end defensively. From the amount the man was gesticulating, the conversation looked pretty one sided.
“Now you can fuck off,” the shorter man said. “We’ll keep Speedy Gonzales company.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really?” I asked. “Was that meant to be funny because he only has one leg or because he’s Mexican?”
“I don’t care what you think,” he snapped.
“Did they hurt you?” I asked Antonio in Spanish.
Antonio’s surprise showed he hadn’t realized I spoke the language, but he shook his head. He looked a little frustrated too. Antonio was used to kicking ass and taking names; I imagined that the two men getting the drop on him had stung. Better to have stung feelings than be dead, though.
“Are you leaving or not?” the smaller man said, taking a step toward me and unzipping his jacket.
“I think I’ll sit and wait with my friend for Jessica to finish talking,” I told him.
The man shrugged off his jacket, revealing a gun still in its holster. His arms were covered in various tattoos, including a swastika on his bicep that showed from under the blue T-shirt he wore.
“Nazi?” I asked.
He smiled at me. “Not really your business.”
“Just making pleasant conversation,” I told him. “This doesn’t need to go sideways.”
“He’s right, Bryce,” his partner said quietly. “We didn’t come here to hurt anyone. The boss will be angry if we do.”
Bryce nodded slowly and picked his jacket up off the ground. He was quite wiry and certainly had the appearance of someone who knew how to fight. Maybe he was more dangerous than his partner.
Once upon a time, I’d have killed them both without a second thought, but that time had ended two years ago, and I had to remind myself to stay calm. To not allow myself to be drawn into anything that would cause trouble. Even so, I really wanted to break Bryce’s smug face.