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Chapter 5

NO AMOUNT OF COFFEE, no matter how strong, would make Dorcas perky today.

Stifling a yawn, she picked up the order for table seventeen and wove a path through the restaurant’s crowded dining room.

She’d barely slept a wink last night. By the time she’d finished cleaning her wrecked apartment and doing a mountain of laundry, it was almost one in the morning. And every time she’d closed her eyes, she heard a strange noise, or thought about her sister and wondered where Rita was—or whether she was alive. Over the course of the evening, she’d left her sister over two dozen voicemails and text messages, and had never received a response.

The only reason she’d gotten any rest was because Nate had insisted on crashing on the couch. Just knowing he was there had given her a measure of comfort and security. And this morning, he’d followed her to work, not driving away until she was safely inside the restaurant. It seemed a bit like overkill, but part of her appreciated him looking out for her.

And yet, in the back of her mind, she wondered what he’d want in return. Experience taught her a long time ago not to expect something for nothing. There were always conditions, always a price. If given the choice, she preferred to know the cost beforehand, so she could determine whether it was worth it.

The lunch rush was finally dying down, which was good because the place closed in less than an hour. That’s the way it worked at the Friendly Bagel. The restaurant had been around for over a decade and had built a loyal following, even though they were only open for breakfast and lunch.

Dorcas had worked there for almost six months, ever since her former employer went out of business. She could probably earn more if she switched to a place that was open for dinner—and served alcohol—but the tips were good, she wasn’t required to wear anything tight or revealing, and the predictable hours worked well with her class schedule. It allowed her to go from work to school, and then have the rest of the night to study.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Dorcas placed the portabella panini in front of the middle-aged woman in a crisp blue pantsuit and wire-rimmed glasses.

The woman smiled. “Looks delicious.”

By contrast, the twenty-something man sitting across from the woman eyed his Southwest turkey club as though it might gnaw off his fingers. “There’s no pepper jack on this, right?”

“American cheese instead, as you requested.”

“Extra sauce?”

“You got it. And I made sure the chef gave you two extra slices of tomatoes.”

As usual, her answers mollified him. He gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She set extra napkins on the table before the guy could ask for them. The pair came in at least three times a week, and she knew what they were going to order before they even walked through the door. And they tipped well, which was an added bonus. “If you need anything else, just give me a holler.”

She crossed the room to check the other tables in her station, noting that twelve needed refills and the guy at nine was almost finished with his meal. Along the way, she picked up the check from the creepy guy at table thirteen who never looked at her face because he was too busy staring at her chest.

“Keep the change,” he said as he stood to leave, and it took everything she had not to shudder. Seriously, she wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had bodies buried in his backyard.

At the register, she rang up the bill and tucked the whopping dollar tip in her pocket. Jessica, one of the other waitresses, walked up, her hips swinging, eyes alight, and a big ole grin on her face.

“Two hotties just asked to sit in your station.”

That got Dorcas’s attention, although Jessica’s parameters for hot were much broader than hers. “Where did you seat them?”