Page 50 of Desperate Creed

Maybe it was nothing. A lost traveler or someone having second thoughts about the restaurant. She pulled up the photo with the license plate and messaged it to Agent Alonzo. It had taken her a minute at the most to send it, and yet, the next time she looked up she saw a small SUV pull in and do almost the exact same thing.

Up one aisle and down another. The woman’s head pivoted from side to side as though she were looking for the best spot. She finally settled on a space in the far corner. She backed into the slot, and only then did Maggie see that in doing so, the woman had a direct shot out of the parking lot.

Maggie sat back, holding up her phone again and blocking her face. It didn’t matter. The woman hadn’t looked her way as she left the vehicle. She had a tangle of dark hair. She wore blue jeans, a T-shirt, running shoes and oversized sunglasses. Her head swiveled back to the street then the gas station across from the restaurant. She definitely had someone else on her mind, but she walked with purpose. So maybe she knew that she was being tracked.

Maggie watched her all the way to the restaurant door then whispered to herself, “I am so glad to see you’re still alive, Frankie Russo.”

35

Southern Blessings

South of Montgomery, Alabama

Frankie Russo felt like every nerve ending in her body was on high alert. She had been functioning on adrenaline since she’d left Nashville. Her mind wouldn’t shut off. Her eyelids felt like lead shutters. The humidity had turned her thick hair into unruly waves. At one point she had looked in the rearview mirror and didn’t recognize the image staring back at her. But as soon as Frankie walked through the restaurant’s door the scent of fresh baked bread and batter-fried food brought back a wave of good feelings and good memories.

The entire drive she kept telling herself she just needed to get to Southern Blessings. Just get there! But she quickly reminded herself that this place definitely brought a false sense of security. She couldn’t let her guard down. Not here. Not yet!

The hostess led Frankie to a table in the center of the restaurant.

“Would it be possible to have that booth by the window instead?”

The hostess didn’t look pleased. Frankie could tell they were finishing a busy lunch hour, and the booth she was asking for still had dirty dishes.

“I’ve been cooped up in the car since sunrise,” Frankie told the woman, slipping into an old familiar southern accent. “It would do my soul some good to be close to the window.”

“As long as you don’t mind waiting while we clear.”

“Not at all.”

It took two minutes at the most before Frankie was able to sit down. A waitress handed her a menu while she set a glass of water in front of Frankie and placed a bowl of fried dill pickles in the center of the table.

“What can I get for you, Hon?”

Odd as it seemed, the waitress looked familiar, and Frankie wondered if she had worked here when Hannah and Frankie had come as children. The woman looked to be in her fifties, tall and skinny with deep creases around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes. Painted on eyebrows gave her a look of being eternally anxious for your order. Frankie glanced at her nametag.

“I’m waiting for a friend, Rita, but I would love a cup of coffee.”

“You got it, Hon.”

Frankie picked out one of the fried dill pickles as she surveyed the rest of the guests. She had made a good decision choosing this booth. With her back to the wall she could get a good look at everyone inside and anyone who came in the door. Several people waited to pay their bills. There were probably about a dozen guests still eating or waiting to be served. A large man in a ball cap occupied a booth close to the door. Sitting at the counter, a well-dressed older gentleman was eating a slice of pie. Two women were being served their lunches at a table next to where the hostess had originally wanted to seat Frankie. In the other corner, a middle-aged couple had only coffee cups left. His arm stretched across the table to touch her hand. She was blushing and smiling too much. It had to be a new relationship.

Frankie felt a wave of relief when she realized the man with the scar wasn’t here...yet. But her anxiety kicked up a notch when she also realized that the FBI agent wasn’t here either.

Rita brought her coffee and a small covered basket.

“Something for you to snack on,” she said, “until your friend gets here.”

Frankie lifted the cloth napkin and could smell the buttery, warm biscuits. Her mouth watered. She finished the fried dill pickle and plucked one of the biscuits out from under the cover. In the window she caught a look at her reflection even while she scouted the parking lot.

She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down the wild curls. This restaurant and her reflection reminded her of the first summer she’d spent with Hannah and her grandparents. Hannah’s grandmother had tried to tame Frankie’s hair with bows and barrettes. After Frankie pleaded with her, the woman finally did up Frankie’s hair in cornrows to match Hannah’s.

When her father saw her, he’d laughed, so hard. Frankie hadn’t seen him laugh like that before, or since. It made her smile just thinking about it.

Her father loved and respected Hannah’s grandfather so much he would have been pleased to have him and his wife raise Frankie full time. And it would have been better if they had. Instead, Frankie had to live with her father’s regret and despair, all the while looking forward to the next time she could escape to Hannah’s.

For the first time, she noticed the sun had disappeared completely. She’d watched storm clouds gather in the west the last hour of her trip. But still, the sun had been relentless. The temperatures spiked in the upper eighties but the humidity made it feel like a slow boil. Inside the rental SUV she had hardly noticed until she was forced to stop and refill the gas tank. She’d left Chicago needing a jacket, not realizing she’d be wishing for a pair of shorts twenty-four hours later.

A man and a woman came in the door. Frankie thought they were together until the man seated himself at the counter and the woman waited. A teenaged boy joined the woman before the hostess came to seat them.