“Already ate,” Errol told her placidly. “Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, green beans and corn on the cob.”
“Yum. Maybe I’ll have that,” Katie said, peering at the menu. The bells on the door jangled as Marcus Stash charged out of the diner.
“What can I get you, Katie?” Sherona asked when she bustled behind the counter. Katie made her order.
“How you feeling? Any morning sickness?” Sherona asked under her breath while Errol studied his model plane.
“A little, but nothing some soda and crackers doesn’t settle. I hear it might get worse,” Katie replied. She noticed Sherona seemed unusually distracted.
“Something wrong, Sherona?” Katie asked.
Sherona rolled her eyes. “I know it sounds stupid, but I keep thinking I left on my coffeepot at home. Derek has football practice, so I couldn’t call and have him check. It’s been driving me nuts all afternoon.”
“Why don’t you go home and check? I’ll look out for things around here,” Katie volunteered.
Sherona shook her head at first, but then glanced around the diner, which was fairly empty. At that moment, Miles Fordham checked his watch and stood up from the booth. He left the suited man behind to finish his coffee, waved at Katie and hurried out the door.
“Are you sure, Katie? It’ll take me five minutes, tops. The only thing you might have to do is fill a coffee cup or two until I get back,” Sherona said.
Katie hopped down from her barstool. “No problem. Go on.” She shooed Sherona off. Sherona removed her apron and hurried into the back room toward the rear entrance.
Errol looked uncomfortable at the image of Katie behind the counter tying Sherona’s apron around her jeans. Errol liked his world unchanging and orderly. “It’s just for a little bit, Errol. Sherona will be back in a flash.” She gave him a smile before she picked up a newly brewed pot of coffee and headed toward the man in the business suit.
“Another cup for you?” she asked the man. She glanced around at the sound of the bells and saw Derek Legion enter the diner. His hair was damp and his face was flushed. He carried a blue-and-white football helmet under his arm. He seemed surprised to see Katie holding a coffeepot, but he returned her wave before he went to talk to Errol.
“Don’t mind if I do,” the man said, setting his cup in the saucer. “I have the red-eye out of St. Louis, so I’ve got some time to kill. Gorgeous country you have around here. Don’t see anything like this upstate.”
“You from the Chicago area?” Katie asked.
“Springfield. The name’s Harlan. George Harlan.” The man paused to shake Katie’s hand.
“Katie Hughes. I don’t suppose you have anything to do with the gaming commission?” Katie asked, although she already knew the answer after spending time in Miles’s office last week.
“That’s right. Here to make our final inspection. That riverboat complex is going to provide lots of jobs for this little community,” Harlan said with a smile. “With the coal mine fixing to cut back its output and cut jobs, the boat will be a gift to Vulture’s Canyon.”
“Maybe,” Katie said, smiling. “If Fordham planned to give the jobs to locals, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Harlan asked, his expression sobering.
She paused and looked around at the sound of the bells jangling loudly. Someone wearing a dark brown puffy coat was in the process of locking the front door.
“Hey!” she called out, miffed.
Marcus Stash turned around. He pointed a gun in Katie’s and George Harlan’s direction.
“Everybody does exactly what I say, and chances are you won’t get hurt,” Stash yelled. His manic gaze landed on Katie. For a second, he looked as confused as Errol had seeing Katie standing in for Sherona. He recovered instantly.
“Everybody into the back room. Now!” he bellowed.
Katie walked toward the counter. Derek Legion looked pale with shock, but Errol seemed only mildly perturbed.
“Come on, Errol . . . Derek. Let’s go to the back room,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.
She figured it was best to just go along with Marcus Stash. The brown coat he wore was open. She’d seen enough dynamite strapped to his torso to put tiny Vulture’s Canyon, Illinois, on the map in a very big way.
Twenty-eight
Rill’s time clock was warped from two overseas trips within the span of eight days. He’d left Malacnoic before sunrise on the night after he’d seen his uncles and got on the first flight out of Dublin to the States. He couldn’t sleep on the flight in his growing anticipation to see Katie. His excitement had festered when he’d been stuck at LaGuardia for a two-hour layover.