Page 113 of It Runs in the Family

He sat back in his seat and ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry I took so long getting your coffee to you,” our waitress said as she set two empty coffee cups on the table along with a carafe. “That deputy threw me off.”

“Did he say he was lookin’ for a missin’ woman?” Boone asked, sounding concerned.

“That’s what he claimed.”

His brow shot up. “You don’t believe him?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe him. I’ve just learned never to trust a cop.”

Boone didn’t react.

“Do you know who he was talkin’ about?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Like I told him, I’ve worked here three years, and I never knew anyone who fit that description.”

“I wonder why they thought she worked here…” I said, casting a glance at Boone.

“Lord if I know,” the waitress said.

“You know, I used to work here,” I said cheerfully. “I started about four and a half years ago and quit after a year. Must’ve been before you started.”

She stared at me in confusion. “We don’t get much turnover. I’m surprised you only lasted a year.”

I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “I worked the late shift, and most people only ordered coffee and pie.” I made a face. “Doesn’t leave much of a bill for a tip.”

“I sure understand that.” Her gaze landed firmly on the coffee carafe.

“Don’t you worry,” I assured her. “If we don’t order anything else, we’ll still give you a good tip.”

She nodded as though accepting my promise.

“When I worked here, Caleb changed the logos on our shirts,” I said, knowing I needed to be careful about what I said. “When I left, he still had a bunch in the back for new hires to wear until he could get personalized shirts made for them. Does he still do that?”

She laughed. “No, but we’ve got some in the back. We use ’em for all kinds of things, from dust rags to a spare shirt if we spill something on ours.”

“So… anyone could end up with one of those shirts,” I said.

She gave me a sideways glance. “I guess so.”

“We had to turn our shirts in to get our last paycheck. Does Caleb still do that?”

She laughed. “Not with ’em personalized. We get to keep ’em now. But like I said, we don’t have much turnover.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me reminisce,” I said, my mind still fixated on how the woman could have gotten that shirt.

“No problem. You kids let me know if you need anything else.”

When she walked away, Boone’s gaze narrowed. “Did you really used to work here?”

“Yeah.” When he didn’t look convinced, I added, “Why? Is that so unbelievable?”

“No, I’m having a hard time picturin’ you servin’ people.”

“I don’t know why it seems so unbelievable,” I snapped. “I served people when I worked at the Stop-n-Go.”

“I’m strugglin’ to see you doin’ that too.”