I let out a small grumble but didn’t bother protesting. Ruby unclasped her hands, a slow smirk spreading across herface. She knew I’d already given in. Honestly, she had known I was going to give in from the start. And while I had no idea if I could help this woman or her lost cat, it certainly wouldn’t kill me to try.
After a few more seconds of silence, my mom asked, “Is this girl single?”
THREE
Hazel
My brakes squealedin protest as I came to an abrupt stop in the nearly empty parking lot. Neon lights from the diner were the only things cutting through the dim morning. The sun had technically risen, but it clearly had no plans to make an appearance today. Gray clouds hung low overhead, and a few miserably frigid raindrops had already started to fall.
I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned over to pick up the folder next to me.
“Shit,” I muttered, as papers and photographs spilled out and onto the floor of my passenger seat. My side dug into the center console as I stretched out my fingertips to collect them before stuffing the papers back inside.
I didn’t bother to grab an umbrella as I dashed through the rain toward the front door.
The bells overhead jingled sharply as I stepped inside the nearly deserted diner. A pair of rough-looking men who might’ve been truck drivers occupied a booth in the far corner, their heavy jackets still damp from the storm. At a table near the center, a man in his fifties sat alone, a newspaper stretchedwide in his hands as he sipped slowly from a steaming cup of coffee.
Finally, my eyes landed on him.
Reid was exactly as Ruby had described: serious-looking, with a long face, strong jaw, and glasses perched on a straight nose. His hair was cropped to perfection, meticulous, with not even a strand out of place. He was dressed casually in a long-sleeve t-shirt that looked like it might have been ironed.
He lifted a hesitant hand, offering me a wave as I bulldozed in his direction, falling into the booth opposite him, nearly dropping my folder again in the process.
Warmth reflected in his golden eyes. I’d noticed it the moment I entered his vicinity.
I held out my hand. “Hazel Jacobs.”
“Uh, Reid Mitchell.” He gave my hand a shake. A quick surge of electricity—a small spark—passed between us. Or at least it had in my imagination. “Are you always so formal with your introductions?”
I shrugged. “Is a last name formal?”
He opened his mouth as if to answer before pausing to think a second. “I would say so, yes.”
“I would argue it’s more informative than formal.”
He scrunched his face before it distorted into a smile. “Okay…”
“Thank you so much for meeting me,” I said, changing the subject. “Ruby mentioned you might be able to help, and I’m beyond desperate at this point. Seriously, thank you so much for even taking the time. I know you must be busy.”
A waitress stopped by, interrupting my rambling. “Coffee?” she asked.
“Please.” I flipped over my chipped ceramic mug and gave her a grateful smile, the smell of the dark liquid already perking up my senses. I dumped in two creams before taking a sip.
When she was gone, Reid leaned forward, the booth making an unflattering squishing noise in the process.
“Look, I’m not sure what Ruby said?—”
“She said that you were a bit of an investigator. That you and your friends have even solved a few cold cases.”
“Onecold case,” he corrected.
“That’s one more than anyone else I know,” I said, my heart skittering a little faster. His whole demeanor screamed of someone who was trying to let me down easy. I knew that look. It had happened to me enough times.
“One cold case with thousands of online clues that just hadn’t been put together in the right order yet,” he continued. “Honestly, it was more luck than anything. We were able to track down camera footage the police never bothered to look into before.”
“Ruby said it’s your hobby—looking into mysteries and stuff.”
“It is, but I’m essentially an armchair detective who loves true crime podcasts and spending way too many hours on forums.” His words were careful. He seemed like the kind of person who did everything with care.
