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Luther could understand Adam not wanting to sit next to his father. He wouldn’t want to sit next to the crazy bastard either. But goddamn, he could use some elbow room. Restaurant booths were not made to accommodate more than two adult males. He shoveled down his remaining eggs and cheesy hash browns, dabbed his face with a napkin, and said, “Excuse me.”
Adam moved, and Luther slid awkwardly down the length of the brown leather bench, banging his leg as he stood. “I’ll be back. Don’t let her take my coffee cup.”
Luther stepped outside. The building’s funky, bottom-flaring shape provided no cover whatsoever, and there was no landscaping, either. Luther headed toward his SUV, then remembered Adam still had his keys. At least standing next to it would block the wind. He called Beth dire
