artist.”
“All day, huh?”
“A few hours. Then her friend came, she got a call and ran out.” Kevin looked behind himself and then under the counter. “Left so fast she forgot her bag. It’s around here somewhere.” He opened a cabinet door on his right under the counter, then another on his left and pulled out the backpack.
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. That explained why Wallace’s tracker was off. She must’ve known about the device and dumped the bag to throw them off.
Morgan started to take the bag, but the kid stopped him.
“Mom and dad, huh?”
Morgan pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and stuffed it in the little plastic tip jar. “We miss our little girl so desperately.”
Kevin took his hand off the bag.
As they walked out of The Ground Up, Brandt followed. “Are you stupid? You’re giving that kid a fifty? That’s nuts. You should’a clocked him or worse,” he said. “In my day, this place would’ve been in flames by now. You’re a moron. Since when do you leave witnesses? That kid will sing to every person with a badge that comes around. How many cameras did that place have?”
Crossing the street to their vehicle, Morgan wondered if the man was right. Who would really come looking out here for evidence, though? Who would think to stop at that particular coffee joint?
Morgan stopped as they reached the SUV. He yelled across the hood to Wallace. “Hey. I just remembered something. Be right back.”
21
The rumble and sway of the train calmed Deena’s nerves for a bit. Avi had deliberately picked a seat near the middle of the car, just in case someone came at them from either direction. He had left to find the bathroom and do whatever his morning routine was. He’d dozed a few times in the night, and so had she, but Deena couldn’t imagine either of them had managed to get more than a couple of hours of sleep total.
Out the window, the vast countryside of the West Coast sailed by as the sun rose, with the ocean poking into her line of sight occasionally. The crumbling buildings of small communities and former one-horse towns filled her view every ten or fifteen minutes, with few larger cities to gain her interest. It was mostly cow towns and grain silos followed by the rocky greeting that northern California presented. They’d stopped twice so far at small stations. Even after the stops, no one had come into the car. She couldn’t imagine many people had boarded.
She stared at wheat fields for as long as she could before digging in her bag for a magazine. It was a long trip back from Seattle to L.A. She flipped through the pictures, never resting her eyes on one for more than a couple of seconds before flipping again. She turned her attention back to the window and watched the scenery whiz by.
It was going to be a long trip back.
The men that came in from the next car appeared abruptly. They pushed aside the metal door and slammed it shut behind them. She recognized them from Marsh’s organization. She’d worked with them in some manner or another on a job once. The lead man was very familiar. His name was Ramirez and he had a broad scar across his face that Deena had given him years ago. They were not friends. Another of them was a thug whose name escaped Deena, but she was sure it rhymed with tree or maybe limb. She only vaguely recognized the other two men. They all focused on her and approached without a word passing between them. She took a deep breath and waited for them to sit across from her.
“Hello, Deena,” Ramirez said. He didn’t sit. “We’re here to make sure you make it back to the city. Boss wants to talk. He’s kinda worried about you.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m not interested in going anywhere with you.” Deena looked around the car to see only a couple of other people now scattered throughout her section of the train.
“What’s going on? We’re all on the same team here, right? You work for Marsh, we work for Marsh. Let’s just go have a talk
“All day, huh?”
“A few hours. Then her friend came, she got a call and ran out.” Kevin looked behind himself and then under the counter. “Left so fast she forgot her bag. It’s around here somewhere.” He opened a cabinet door on his right under the counter, then another on his left and pulled out the backpack.
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. That explained why Wallace’s tracker was off. She must’ve known about the device and dumped the bag to throw them off.
Morgan started to take the bag, but the kid stopped him.
“Mom and dad, huh?”
Morgan pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and stuffed it in the little plastic tip jar. “We miss our little girl so desperately.”
Kevin took his hand off the bag.
As they walked out of The Ground Up, Brandt followed. “Are you stupid? You’re giving that kid a fifty? That’s nuts. You should’a clocked him or worse,” he said. “In my day, this place would’ve been in flames by now. You’re a moron. Since when do you leave witnesses? That kid will sing to every person with a badge that comes around. How many cameras did that place have?”
Crossing the street to their vehicle, Morgan wondered if the man was right. Who would really come looking out here for evidence, though? Who would think to stop at that particular coffee joint?
Morgan stopped as they reached the SUV. He yelled across the hood to Wallace. “Hey. I just remembered something. Be right back.”
21
The rumble and sway of the train calmed Deena’s nerves for a bit. Avi had deliberately picked a seat near the middle of the car, just in case someone came at them from either direction. He had left to find the bathroom and do whatever his morning routine was. He’d dozed a few times in the night, and so had she, but Deena couldn’t imagine either of them had managed to get more than a couple of hours of sleep total.
Out the window, the vast countryside of the West Coast sailed by as the sun rose, with the ocean poking into her line of sight occasionally. The crumbling buildings of small communities and former one-horse towns filled her view every ten or fifteen minutes, with few larger cities to gain her interest. It was mostly cow towns and grain silos followed by the rocky greeting that northern California presented. They’d stopped twice so far at small stations. Even after the stops, no one had come into the car. She couldn’t imagine many people had boarded.
She stared at wheat fields for as long as she could before digging in her bag for a magazine. It was a long trip back from Seattle to L.A. She flipped through the pictures, never resting her eyes on one for more than a couple of seconds before flipping again. She turned her attention back to the window and watched the scenery whiz by.
It was going to be a long trip back.
The men that came in from the next car appeared abruptly. They pushed aside the metal door and slammed it shut behind them. She recognized them from Marsh’s organization. She’d worked with them in some manner or another on a job once. The lead man was very familiar. His name was Ramirez and he had a broad scar across his face that Deena had given him years ago. They were not friends. Another of them was a thug whose name escaped Deena, but she was sure it rhymed with tree or maybe limb. She only vaguely recognized the other two men. They all focused on her and approached without a word passing between them. She took a deep breath and waited for them to sit across from her.
“Hello, Deena,” Ramirez said. He didn’t sit. “We’re here to make sure you make it back to the city. Boss wants to talk. He’s kinda worried about you.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m not interested in going anywhere with you.” Deena looked around the car to see only a couple of other people now scattered throughout her section of the train.
“What’s going on? We’re all on the same team here, right? You work for Marsh, we work for Marsh. Let’s just go have a talk
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