As they walked in, tow-truck Randy paused on his way out of the diner. He shook Cain’s hand and introduced Betsy and Cain to the woman next to him. Said she was his wife. Said he’d done two weeks in rehab. Said he was working hard to stay sober. Real hard. The wife said they’d just found out they had a baby on the way. Smiling, Randy and his wife thanked Cain for making sure he’d survived, then went on their way.
A small warmth filled Betsy’s insides as they walked to the hostess counter. Then she heard him ask for the last booth in the row to the right. Saw him take in the perimeter and the occupants in a more than casual glance. Noticed his hand never left his pocket where she’d seen him put his gun after removing it from the truck console.
What for a moment had felt like a casual evening out in her mind turned into trepidation in that instant. She even found herself watching her surroundings. And when they reached the booth, she slid into the seat with her back to the door.
Her FBI dad and her uncle the sheriff had taught her long ago to let the protector of the group sit to watch the door. See who comes. See who goes. See the possible trouble before it happens. Cain was her protector tonight, and she needed to let him do his job.
He slid into his side of the booth. Grinned and chatted with the waitress, as did Betsy. They ordered their meals and sipped their water. Yet all the time, she noticed he kept glancing around the diner, even to the lighted parking lot. Even once their food was served.
Suddenly he paused eating and stared toward the front door. As if to be seen, he straightened in his seat. She didn’t turn around, just sipped the tea she’d ordered.
“Officer Kennett just walked in,” he said. “Looks like he’s headed our way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cain had already finished his meal, so he motioned the waitress to take the plate and bring the bill. Officer Kennett looked like a man on a mission. As he walked in their direction, he paused for a moment at the counter. Appeared like he placed a to-go order.
Finished, Kennett grabbed a chair from the few stacked in the corner then sat at the end of their booth. “Saw your truck in the parking lot. Figured I could save myself some time.”
“What do you mean?” Cain asked.
The officer looked at Betsy. “The other two women in your little group have been on the phone all afternoon.”
“First off, thank you for not calling me ma’am.” She smiled. “Second, you’re going to need to be more specific on who. I’ve got more than one three-musketeer group.”
For some reason Cain didn’t quite believe that. She had always been a very private person when it came to her family and friends. Nothing he’d seen since coming back to town led him to think any different.
“Marcy and Joanie. They got together on the phone, planned what you’d need if you were staying at Cain’s house, and made a list. Since Marcy’s in New York, it was Joanie who got everything together. Then she made me read off the list as she packed the tote bag I’ve now got in my cruiser with unofficial orders to deliver it to you.” Kennett sighed in exasperation. Pinched the space between his eyebrows with his fingers. “Just so you know, I don’t ever want to read that list again.”
“Do you have a headache?” Betsy asked the officer, clearly concerned.
Cain was beginning to feel sorry for him, but as long as it wasn’t himself involved in this evidently super important plan, he’d stay happy. And quiet.
“No. I don’t have a headache. But the day’s not over, yet.” Kennett glanced at Cain before turning to stare at Betsy. “And just for the record…I don’t buy that you’ve got another three-musketeer group anywhere in the world. Ma’am.
Betsy burst out in spontaneous laughter. So surprising and kind of loud that a few of the diners glanced in her direction. Trying to stifle herself, she covered her mouth with one hand while she reached out with the other and covered the officer’s hand.
“Oh my gosh, Kennett. That was a fantastic smart aleck comeback.” She wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of her right eye. Then sucked in a breath and blew it out calmly as if getting herself back under control. “It’s taken a couple of years, but you have become one of us. You’ve become a friend.”
The officer grinned. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
“I’ve learned to just take it as good and go from there,” Cain said as he stood. “I hate to break this up, but we should head on out.”
Breaking the tension for a few minutes had felt good, but Betsy and he needed to get to his house before the appointment with JB at eight o’clock tonight. Cain had also picked up on the signal from Kennett, the one that was nothing more than a quick glance at the door. Odds were that they needed to talk.
“Okay.” Betsy slid out of her seat as she pointed at the restroom sign above the doorway to the short hallway, then headed in that direction. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll go on out and get the tote bag from Kennett’s cruiser,” Cain said. “See you at my truck.”
The two men left the diner, and after retrieving the tote from the cruiser, they walked over to Cain’s truck.
He tossed the tote in the back seat. “You look tired, Kennett. Of course, it’s been a long day. First, the early call to Peyton’s. Then Betsy’s house break-in. I imagine you’ve had a lot of evidence to collect.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Kennett leaned forward and braced his forearms on the hood of the truck. “Crayton wasn’t the only place to get hit on last night.”
“Where else?”
“Had five or six similar smash and spray break-in events around Missouri and Illinois. Even a couple in eastern Kansas that resulted in shots being fired. One fatality. In fact, a DEA task force has been called in to assist.”
