Adam recognized Pete’s when they arrived at the small, cinderblock structure. It sat in a low spot well back from the road, flanked by two tall pines and with weathered picnic benches in front. The restaurant had been around forever in one incarnation or another. Adam couldn’t recall what it had been when he’d lived here. Soft serve, maybe?
Now it was barbecue, with a smoker out back releasing a pale, aromatic cloud that hung over the building like a good omen. Parking was along one side in the gravel and likely stretched into the grass when the lunch crowd hit. For now, Luther had gotten his wish; only a handful of vehicles sat in the lot. Luther pulled alongside the one on the nearest end and cut the engine.
“What do you recommend?” Adam asked.
Luther laughed. “Only thing to choose is
