She didn’t feel like she had it. Her legs trembled as she approached the door. A man in farmer’s apparel exited, holding the door for her. “Thank you.”
As she stepped inside, the smell of frying bacon and stiff coffee assaulted her. A diner-style bar extended the length of the wood-paneled room, seating at least a dozen customers on swivel stools. Two middle-aged servers bustled behind the bar, pouring coffee, swiping empty plates, and hanging orders as if their movements were choreographed.
Maggie moved straight to the register and within seconds one of the servers called over, “Just grab a seat wherever you can find one, hon. Someone’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Oh, I’m not staying. I was wondering if I could talk to the owner real quick.”
The server leaned into the kitchen. “Cindy, you’re wanted up front.” She grabbed two full plates from under the heat lamp. “She’ll be right with ya.”
“Thank you.” Maggie reviewed the script in her head and prayed for the hundredth time that they’d get the answers they needed.
Moments later a woman swept through the kitchen door. She was a bit older than Maggie and wore her blonde hair in a low ponytail. A smile lit her face with warmth as she approached the register. “Hi, I’m Cindy. What can I do for you?”
“Sorry to bother you in the middle of your lunch rush.”
“No worries.”
“My name’s Maggie Reynolds. I’m looking for an Army friend of my husband’s—he went by the name of Rocky. His parents own a diner here in town—”
Cindy shook her head. “That’s not us, if that’s what you’re asking. Sorry. My husband and I own this place and our kids are only in high school.”
Maggie propped up her smile. “Would you happen to know the family I’m looking for? It’s really important that we find Rocky.”
Lines formed between Cindy’s brows. “I mean, it’s a small town, but it’s not that small. Can’t be the Roswells—they own the Breakfast Bunch south of town. They only have two daughters. Beyond that I really couldn’t say.”
One of the servers passed by. “Cindy, can you make some more decaf when you get a chance?”
“Sure thing.” The owner stepped back with a parting smile. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“That’s okay. Thank you for taking the time.” Maggie’s hopes flagged as she exited the restaurant. The Breakfast Bunch wasn’t open today anyway, and now they could cross that off their list. That was a little progress at least.
Chapter 12
The savory scents of breakfast meats filled Maggie’s nose as they entered the small diner the next morning. They hadn’t found Rocky’s family yet, but they’d crossed three diners off their list yesterday. Then because the other diners were closed, they’d taken Zoey to the local children’s museum.
Maggie had been up early with her daughter, but they’d delayed their visit to the Iron Skillet, hoping the early morning crowd would dwindle. She was glad to see only about half of the red vinyl booths were filled.
They stopped by a sign that read “Hostess will be with you shortly.” A moment later the sign kept its promise. A middle-aged woman ushered the trio to a booth in the back corner and left them with menus. The restaurant was clean and comfortable, if lacking the old-fashioned diner appeal of the other restaurants they’d visited.
“I want two of whatever I’m smelling right now,” Josh said.
“Can I have pancakes, Mommy?”
Maggie perused the menu. “How about the ones with strawberries?”
“Yummy.”
She’d just closed her menu when Maggie and Josh got a group message from his mom. “They made it to Paris last night,” Josh said.
“By train.” They had tickets to go up the Eiffel Tower in a couple days.
“Mom’ll love using her French.” Before she’d retired she taught the foreign language to high schoolers. “And Dad’s been talking about those baguettes since they planned the trip.”
“Are they going to Italy next?”
“First they’re going to Interlaken, Switzerland, then Italy via Monaco. Dad wants to see where the Grand Prix takes place, even though they missed the race by a few weeks.”
“Sounds like fun.”
