A Crooked Waitress

Chapter 32

Jack glanced at a few customers that sat in the diner and hoped his bruised face won't attract a lot of attention. His revolver weighed inside his pocket but with a situation like this, that hardly seemed necessary. People like Claus didn't want to get in trouble with men like him.

He didn't expect Christina to be here but was hoping to find a clue; something that led to her.

"A muffin, please." He sat at the counter.

Claus put a Blueberry muffin on a plate and placed it in front of him. "Anything to wash it down with?"

"A coffee would be nice." He put a piece of cake in his mouth.

Claus poured him a mug and put it beside his plate.

He sipped some of the beverage. "Nice coffee."

"Yes, it's Brazilian."

"I've been here before, and this is new." With his finger, he tapped the cup and ate another piece of muffin.

"Yes, it is. Nice to see a returning customer."

"It was late at night when I was here last time. I met one of your staff. Her name is Christina. We kind of hit it off." He said, peering at the owner.

The name brought a frown to Claus's face.

Jack continued, "I returned a couple of times, but I didn't see her again."

"She doesn't work here anymore. Don't you have her number?"

"Actually, she wrote down her digits on a piece of paper and gave it to me. But silly me; I lost it."

"Well, I can't help you. She's gone." Claus picked up a rag and cleaned the counter, shooting nervous glances at him.

He's afraid. Good.

"How about you think a bit more? Maybe you remember something." He put another piece of muffin in his mouth and slowly chewed.

Claus stopped rubbing the wood and put down the rag. "I said she's gone. That's all."

His gaze locked into Jack's eyes. He was not afraid anymore.

"I think you know more than that." Jack smiled and took another sip of his coffee. "This is really good! What brand is it? I should buy some."

Claus crossed his arms on his chest, "It's time for you to leave."

"What?!"

"Leave." He shouted and pointed at the door. Silence fell upon the dinner, and people stared at them.

"Calm down. I'm just asking a couple of questions." Jack wiped his mouth with a tissue.

He had misjudged this man; he needed more push to sing.

"I already answered your question. Now leave!" Claus raised his voice again.

"I'm not going anywhere until I get the information I want." Jack took the revolver out of his pocket and put it on the counter.

A woman screamed, and the customers ran out of the diner. The clock on the wall showed five after eight. Cops would arrive in a few minutes.

It was time to let iron convince the shop owner to talk. But Claus grabbed a Glock from under the counter and raised the barrel. Jack snatched his gun and ducked.

Claus fired. The bullet whizzed by him and exploded a piece of the floor. Jack ran along the counter, turned a couple of times, and fired in his direction, forcing Claus to take cover.

The owner's aimless fire brought down half the glass windows. At the far end of the counter, Jack crouched down and fired two more shots.

He was stuck, and in a minute or two, the cops showed up. If he ran to the door, he was in Claus's plain sight and even he could drop Jack in such close range. If he stayed, the blues collected him.

The Glock sang until it destroyed most of the furniture. Then Jack heard a clang, and the gun fell silent. It was the empty clip that fell, and Claus was about to shove another in the magazine.

Jack dashed for the door. He heard the new clip clicked in place, and looked back. Claus stood up behind the counter and aimed at him. The muzzle flashed and smashed whatever remained of the windows.

Jack fired toward the counter and covered the last steps to the door. His fire stopped the heat he was taking, and he got out of the diner. A few people hid behind the cars on the other side of the street. But their heads popped up to sneak a peek; it was too good a show to miss.

He got into his SUV and drove off. After a couple of hundred yards, two police cars passed him by. He felt something warm on his neck and touched it; his fingers came up red.

Claus had almost snuffed him out. Almost.