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Without waiting for an answer, he used his phone’s GPS to look for a quick meal and found a diner up the road. He’d prefer a more anonymous chain restaurant, but this rural area offered few options.
Jace pulled into the parking lot of the Good Times Diner. Lots of pickup trucks, some older sedans. Definitely a locals’ hangout. He rolled up his shirtsleeves. Maybe no one would recognize him. He held the door open for Kara, taking a deep breath as all convo stopped and they stared at her.
Kara was stare-worthy, oh, yeah. Put her in rags and she’d still stand out like pure snow on blacktop. But he wished he’d gone further, maybe found a fast-food stand. Too late now. At least no sheriff’s deputies sitting at the counter, jawing about the weather and such, and criminal bikers on the run from law enforcement.
When they were seated at a booth near the kitchen, him facing the door to survey who came inside, Jace tried to concentrate on the grease-splattered menu. Too many questions, and he had answers he couldn’t give her.
Kara was already involved and he needed to cut her out of this equation.
“Jace?” Her voice was quiet, troubled. “Please talk to me and stop staring at the menu as if it holds all the answers in the world.”
“I wish it did. Maybe life would be less complicated.” He set aside the menu as a waiter scurried to their side.
He ordered a thick juicy hamburger with cheese, fries on the side. Kara settled for a salad. She was too thin and she needed protein.
When their drinks arrived, he was ready to tell her a partial truth without blowing his cover. With the noise from the kitchen, and most of the locals gathered near the counter, they had a modicum of privacy.
“Kara, I work in the garage the Devil’s Patrol own. Yeah, I’m a member. But I’m not like the others.” He sipped the sweet tea. One thing about this section of the South. Sweet tea was guaranteed and it was mighty fine.
He sipped more tea and then continued, “Neither is your cousin. I did a little digging and found out Dylan is in deep debt to Lance, the club president. Lance bought him the Ducati, the bike he owns, and as payback, Lance has forced him to steal. Smash-and-grab burglaries. Dylan didn’t want to participate, but Lance threatened to break his fingers.”
Blood drained from her face. She took a long drink from her water, and then patted her mouth. No lipstick on the napkin. No makeup. Only Kara, natural face and way too pale right now.
“He never told me. I wish he had. We’re close but I guess not close enough. I could help him, my parents could help him... We have to get him out of this, Jace! How much is that bike?”
When he named the price, she didn’t blink. “My dad would transfer the money to your president...”
Not my president. “No dice, babe. Lance doesn’t want money. He wanted Dylan under his thumb to steal for him. His puppet. Until Dylan himself stole the jewelry from under the gang’s noses.”
“He might have taken it from the gang because they’re my jewels. He’s family, and we look out for each other.”
“If he is, why is he so desperate to help his mother? Your family has money...”
Kara looked away, biting her lower lush lip. “We tried. We did give her money, but her husband, Dylan’s stepdad, took it, and instead of using it to pay hospital and doctor bills, the rat bastard used it to gamble. Until Wanda can get out of there, he’ll take everything she has. He doesn’t care if she lives or dies. I’m going to find a way to get her free. I will.”
Her voice held a note of fierce resolve. “As for Dylan, I can convince him to turn himself in, once I see him face-to-face.”
She was awfully involved with Dylan. Understandable. Family came first with Kara, which was one reason he didn’t protest when she broke off their relationship. He could never measure up to her expectations regarding closeness with family members. Not with his history.
The waiter brought their food. Jace took a huge bite of his burger, too famished to be polite. As he chewed, he considered everything she’d told him. Something was off about all this because she had a zealous attitude about Dylan, almost as if he was a brother and not a cousin.
Jace wondered.
The records he found regarding Dylan had been mostly sealed, due to him being a juvenile at the time of the offense. Darkling had gone over Dylan’s social media and found a brief, but poignant posting about a boy named Conner, Dylan’s best friend when they were both kids. Conner had been killed in a tragic car accident and his death had “messed me up for a long time,” Dylan had posted.
Jace needed to ferret out more about the mysterious Conner. He found no obituary, or even mention of a funeral home. Kara must know who Conner was since Dylan was close to the boy.
He reached for the salt, shook a generous amount onto his fries. Nibbling on her salad, Kara shook her head.
“Keep that up, Jace, and you’re going to have a coronary by the time you’re in your forties.”
“Better than becoming a rabbit,” he joked, eyeballing her greens. “I don’t always eat like this. It’s a special occasion.”
At her puzzled look, he added, “I’m hungry.”
The sound of her light laugh cut through the tension and made him smile. “I’ve missed that,” he admitted. “Hearing you laugh.”
Kara stopped, her gaze locking to his. “I miss you making me laugh, Jace.”
