Reversing out of the driveway, he took one last glance at the ranch-style house. He hated lying to Niko, but he didn’t want to put him in any danger.
He was off to meet Simon, who had called to say that he had some new information about the case and needed to meet with him in Phoenix. It sounded important, so he agreed to make the six-hour drive.
The drive was long and hot and mostly filled with nineties rock music Reid had been blasting from the radio. By the time he arrived, he was seriously contemplating growing out his hair and possibly learning how to play drums. It was either that or bass—the jury was still out.
Pulling into a parking spot at the rear of the burger joint, he turned off the engine, then scanned the lot for foreign plates. Most said Arizona, except for one, which read LA.
Simon.
He was already here.
Once he stepped into the grease-filled establishment, it only took him thirty seconds to spot his old friend sitting in a booth at the back, wearing a ball cap that covered his eyes and a Dodgers T-shirt.
“Way to stay incognito,” Reid announced as he slid into the booth across from him.
“Hmm? What?” the man startled, snapping his head up and away from the text message he was reading.
“You wear a cap to hide your face, but a T-shirt that says you’re from LA?”
The man looked down at his shirt, then grimaced.
“Argh, shit. I grabbed the first shirt I found in the hamper and didn’t check what it was. Today’s laundry day.”
“And I bet your wife is so happy that you’re not around to help,” Reid replied sarcastically. He liked Simon’s wife, but sometimes he’d listen to them argue about the stupidest things and be reminded once again why he loved being single and living alone.
“Meh, I cut the grass yesterday and took out the garbage this morning before I left, so the Mrs. should be happy.”
“If that’s all it takes,” Reid joked, shrugging his shoulders as their waitress approached.
“What can I get for you, guys?” she asked, flipping open her notepad and popping her pen.
“I’ll have a burger with fries and a shake,” Simon answered before nodding over at Reid.
“And I’ll have a burger with fries as well, but a soda instead to drink.”
The woman nodded, then padded off.
“So? How’s the boyfriend?” Simon asked casually as if they were discussing the weather.
Reid glanced up at his buddy and shook his head.
“He’s not my boyfriend, and we have more important things to discuss.”
“Your love life and happiness are important,” Simon argued, moving the ketchup and mustard bottles so they were both more easily accessible to them.
“No, I’d say that saving people’s lives is more important than whether or not I’ve busted a nut.”
The waitress chose that exact moment to deliver their soda and shake.
Reid tucked his head down and pretended that he hadn’t just mentioned shooting his load.
Once she walked away, Reid lifted his gaze.
“You know, for a guy who worked as a professional sex worker, you sure get uncomfortable with others hearing you talk about sex,” Simon noted.
“Not others. Just nice old ladies who work in diners and bring me my food.”
“She’s not old.”
