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Her top lip twitched as she side-eyed the car. “I’m pretty sure the owner would pay you to take it away.”

With a measure of trepidation, Montgomery extended his hand and gingerly ran his palm over the front fender.

“Simply exquisite.”

“Yeah. It’s the epitome of luxury,” she deadpanned. “Let’s move on.”

The short walk brought more gasps and gaping looks from Montgomery until they arrived at Bo’s Diner.

“None of this was here before,” he said in wonder. “It’s the strangest feeling. Makes me a little sad.”

“Lucky for you the cure for sadness is just through those doors. I am going to treat you to the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

As they walked in, Willow realized she’d only ever sat at the counter when she ate at Bo’s. She felt a little weird sitting at one of the tables, especially with a man who was dead not very long ago. She still wasn’t sure if he was still dead… or maybe undead. The whole business was a little hazy.

Bo approached their table almost immediately, handing them each a plastic-covered menu. He gave Montgomery a once-over and stood over him in his lumberjack way. “So, you’re the boyfriend.”

Montgomery stared back, his mustache twitching. Willow jumped in before the two started a cockfight. “Bo, this is Mountie. He’s visiting from…”

“Canada. I heard.” Then Bo shifted his gaze to Willow and softened a bit. “I’m sorry it took so long to get the papers to you. I’m swamped from five in the morning ’til ten at night.”

“It’s fine, really,” Willow said. “The bookshop’s been keeping me busy, too.”

“What kind of work areyouin?” Bo asked Montgomery with a little edge in his questioning.

“I… it’s a dying profession.”

“Oh I get it,” Bo said. “Dead end job?”

“Something like that.”

Willow’s efforts to hold in a laugh turned her face red.

Bo, too busy for puns, took out his notepad and poised his pencil.

“So, can I get you some pancakes?” he asked.

“Actually, we’ll have two Bo burgers with bacon, extra cheese,” Willow chirped.

“For breakfast?”

“Why not?” she replied. “Dale is always telling me how good they are.”

Bo shrugged, having fulfilled stranger requests at all hours of the day. “Okay then. Fries or onion rings?”

“Both,” Montgomery answered immediately. “I’ve wanted to taste onion rings for decades.”

“You’ve never tried onion rings?” Bo asked in astonishment.

“The onion rings in Canada are different,” Willow explained. “All covered in gravy.”

“If you say so,” Bo replied, then triggered by the kitchen window bell, he yelled, “I’ll be right there, Jose.”

“And a couple of Cokes,” Willow snuck in before Bo stormed back behind the counter. Then when he got to the window, Willow heard him say to the cook, “It’s notgettingcold, Jose. It’s a parfait. It’s already cold!”

“He’s a charming fellow,” Montgomery quipped.

“He’s an acquired taste,” Willow replied, to which Montgomery sniffed derisively. He looked around the diner fascinated, yet overcome by so much stimuli. He was a potential loose cannon, and Willow sensed he needed to narrow his focus on her, or he might break down in shock.