* * *
LOGAN SLID INTO a corner booth at Joey’s Diner on Main Street ten minutes later, wearing a satisfied smile. The fifties-style, family-owned-and-operated restaurant hadn’t changed one bit. A group of older men sat on red-and-white-striped bar stools at the counter drinking coffee and reading newspapers, and the booth in the corner was occupied by a group of women playing bridge. A young waitress leaned on her elbows on the counter chatting with an older woman, whom he recognized. He couldn’t remember her name, but he was great with faces. He searched her apron for a name tag as she wrapped cutlery in paper napkins. Tina. That’s right. She and her husband, Joey Miller, owned the place. Noticing him, she nodded at the young woman.
The girl, April by her name tag, stood and smiled as she approached. “Hi there. Coffee?” She held the steaming pot and turned over the white ceramic coffee cup on the table.
“Yes, please. Could I also get a menu?” The smell of bacon coming from the kitchen was making his mouth water. He wasn’t sure exactly what else he wanted, but definitely bacon.
“This must be your first time at Joey’s,” April said.
“No, but it’s been a while.”
She lifted his coffee cup and, picking up the paper place mat, full of advertisements, she turned it over. “There you go. We serve breakfast until eleven,” she said, pointing to the eclectic selection. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide?”
“Yes, thank you.” Logan scanned the list. What he really wanted was more of those muffins from Ginger Snaps, but by the sign on the front door they weren’t open for business yet.
“So, where is Jonathan taking you for your anniversary tonight?” he heard Tina ask as she refilled ketchup bottles in a booth a few feet away.
April sighed. “The Haunted Hike at Monroe’s.” She rolled her eyes as she collected the empty salt and pepper shakers from the nearby tables.
“For your anniversary? That’s hardly romantic.... I thought you said tonight might be the night.”
The young woman shot a glance toward the men at the counter and placed her fingers to her lips. Nobody looked up. Logan quickly went back to perusing the menu. “Shh...maybe I was wrong. I’m starting to think he’s never going to ask. I mean, we’ve been together four years now....”
Logan set the menu aside. Bacon and eggs it was. He took a sip of his coffee.
“Ready to order?” his lovelorn waitress asked, coming back.
He pointed to the chalkboard menu near the door. “I’ll have your special—the bacon and eggs, hash browns and toast.”
She scribbled on her order pad. “White, whole wheat or multigrain?”
“White is fine, thanks,” he answered, quickly adding as she turned to go, “Um, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but what was it you mentioned about a haunted hike?”
Moving his coffee cup, she turned his place mat over yet again. She pointed to the small ad in the corner. “Monroe’s Haunted Hike tour. It’s at the family’s farm, just outside town—where the pumpkin patch is...and the Christmas-tree farm.... You have no idea where I’m talking about, do you?” she said, tucking her pen behind her ear.
“I’m not from around here.”
“Oh. Well, then where...?”
“California.”
In truth, he wasn’t actually from anywhere in particular. His birth certificate said he was born in Oakland, but since then he’d moved from one foster home to another in every city from Los Angeles to Fresno, until running away at fifteen and hitching rides out East.
“Are you here visiting family...or friends?” April asked.
The only family he had was Amelia and she was half a world away. His few friends were all back in the city. Moving around so much as a kid made developing lifelong friendships nearly impossible and besides most people only used you or let you down. “Nope. Just here to get some peace and quiet,” he offered when she remained silent.
She glanced at his hand. “Trying to take it easy while your hand heals?”
“Actually I broke my wrist here...in my quest for peace and quiet.”
“How did you manage to do that?” she asked, sitting on the bench on the other side of the booth.
Logan stared at her. By all means, sit down, why don’t you? In New York, it was understood that everybody was on a tight timeline. And that your business was your own. “I was...hanging a sign.”
Recognition crossed the woman’s face. “Aw, good for Leigh, she’s been talking about getting that sign put up for quite a while.”
He did a double take. “You know which sign I...?” Shaking his head, he added, “Well, it didn’t get hung.” He held up the cast.
“Let me guess, she was trying to use that rickety old ladder?” She turned. “Mom, how many times have we told Leigh to get rid of that ladder?”
Tina, behind the counter, waved a hand. “Too many.”
“Anyway, I hope her luck starts to change.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with her luck?” Might help explain why he’d found her hiding from the ex-husband’s new wife the other day.
April’s eyes widened and she scrambled out of the booth. “Oh, nothing, I’m just babbling. Anyway, the Monroe Farm is hard to miss, just go down Main Street—”
Logan held up his good hand. “Whoa, go back. What did you mean?”
She bit her lip and shifted from one foot to another under Logan’s insistent gaze. She sat back in the booth. “I really shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“That’s right, you shouldn’t,” her mother said, wiping a table nearby.
“I just meant that Leigh has had a rough few years...with her divorce.” April turned to her mother. “Mom, do you want to jump in here?”
Tina paused near the table and grabbed April’s order pad. “Nope, I’m not having Leigh angry at me. I’ll go place your order.” She clucked her tongue as she sauntered off to the kitchen.
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