Mr. Jefferson wasn't at all surprised to see Christian and I marching into his diner early in the afternoon. Ever since we became a duo (other than me and Patty), he'd expected us to come to him for advice. I was just glad he was so willing to give. Like everything else he'd been helping me to overcome. He didn't have to. But he chose to. And I appreciated that. A lot.
"What can I help the two Loftman brothers with today?" Mr. Jefferson, flipping through a notepad at the cash register, took notice of us, and raised an eyebrow.
"Skipping the small talk now, are we?" Despite the serious expression on Christian's face, his tone was teasing as he slipped into the vacant stool across the counter from Mr. Jefferson. I took my seat beside him, then cast a quick glance around the diner. Few tables were occupied by the usuals passing through. Thankfully, it wasn't crowded just yet. Mr. Jefferson's attention was ours for a little longer. Not that the man couldn't multitask. Regardless, my statement stood.
"Is there ever truly small talk with you two?" Mr. Jefferson chuckled.
"Guess not." Christian sighed.
"So, what's got you two all stressed today? It's a little early for the glum faces, ain't it?"
"Ever heard of Lake Bellinor's Group Home for Teens?" asked Christian, straight to the point.
"Lake Bellinor's Group Home for Teens. . ." Mr. Jefferson mumbled. He paused and set his notepad down, scratching the lengthy scruff outlining his jaw. "Hmm, sounds a bit familiar."
"Oh?" Christian perked up. "Think you might know anything about it?"
"Sorry son. Unfortunately not." Mr. Jefferson shook his head. "Maybe Carol will know a bit more, eh? But I doubt that too. Why? What's the rave about this place?"
"Well, it turns out the location of our current crime scene was previously known as Lake Bellinor's Group Home for Teens." Christian checked back over his shoulders, his ears twitching in response to any unwanted stragglers that might've been listening in or passing through.
"The old abandoned lake house?" Mr. Jefferson scrunched his face.
Christian nodded.
"And I presume there's some sort of connection?"
Christian nodded again.
"Sorry boys. I'm afraid my knowledge about Lake Bellinor only goes so far back."
"That's fine"—Christian sighed and leaned forward on his elbows—"it was worth a shot."
Mr. Jefferson offered Christian an apologetic half-smile before his attention started to shift. I tried to ignore the scorching gaze, directed at me, burning from Mr. Jefferson's narrowed eyes. But it proved impossible when we made eye contact. It was just for a split second, and that was my mistake. I groaned inwardly and tried to play it off as though I was casually looking around.
"Hey, by the way, did you tell your brother about that . . . thing?" By thing, I assumed he meant my stalker. Christian's eyes darted between us, a bewildered eyebrow flexed.
"He knows," I said, a breath leaving my nose.
Mr. Jefferson looked between us, frowning. "And?"
"Oh, that thing." It finally clicked for Christian. He groaned, then sighed.
"Well, that answers my question," answered Mr. Jefferson. "So, it's serious?"
"Very," Christian confirmed, reluctant to say anything else. Not that it was needed. Mr. Jefferson hadn't pushed for more details. It was pretty damn clear that he understood how dire this situation really was. So, as a means to escape this conversation before it could travel back to me a second time, I sighed and slid off the stool.
YOU ARE READING
What Rose Above
Mystery / Thriller[Book 2 to the Lake Bellinor Duology] [UNEDITED] After finally learning to accept his ability for what it is, Tyler returns to question the origins of it, starting with the mysterious curly-haired woman in his dreams. However, his plans are soured w...
