Page 3 of Kane's Kingdom

"No." I shake my head.

"Hear a vehicle?"

"Glass exploding was kind of distracting."

He ignores that. "Any trouble with customers?"

"Only the usual."

His eyes slide toward the corner table. Lyle Fenn sits alone with a cup he hasn't touched.

He came in ten minutes after Sam. That's quick, even for a man who treats other people's trouble like a town newsletter. Lyle's from one of those Ransom families that own nothing but know who does. He's mid-forties, with thinning hair and pale eyes that move too much. He smiles unconvincingly when I catch him watching me.

Sam notices him too. "Lyle," he says. "You know anything about this?"

Lyle lifts both hands. "Just here for breakfast."

"We're not serving yet," I say.

"Then I guess I'm waiting."

Sam stares at him for a beat, then looks back at me. "I'll ask around."

"That's it?"

"I've got no witnesses, Bella."

"You've got three incidents."

"The power line could've been kids. Franklin could've changed routes."

"And the rock?"

His gaze drops to the evidence bag. "That one's clearer."

"Clear enough to do something?"

A muscle works in his cheek. Sam's not a bad man. That almost makes it worse. He's spent twenty years explaining why his hands are tied until everybody stopped expecting him to use either one.

"I'll increase patrols," he says.

Marisol snorts. Sam pretends not to hear. He gives me the same look he wore when my father drove through the courthouse flower bed and when they found him dead beside an empty bottle. Concerned, powerless and already halfway out the door.

"I'll call if I find anything."

"Sure you will."

His boots crunch through the remaining shards of glass as he leaves. The room starts breathing again.

Marisol goes back to the kitchen. Lyle stays where he is. I pick up the coffee pot and walk to his table.

"You want to tell me why you're here?"

He looks at the pot. "Thought you weren't serving."

"I'm not."

"Shame."