Chapter Twelve
King’s Diner may have lived up to its royal name at one point in time, but not anymore. The low-rent eatery sat next to the convenience store, in a long, rectangular building, made up, in part, by an old railway car. The tarnished chrome and diesel-stained white siding was interrupted mid-way up by a series of windows. The thick plated glass let in a lot of light for the handful of diners inside but also allowed them to peer out at me while they enjoyed their lunch specials.
Trying to look as natural and relaxed as possible, pacing the sidewalk just outside the diner, I covered the ground between the faded sign and a green bench on the corner. I might have looked less conspicuous sitting down, but the movement helped calm my nerves as I listened to the ringing at the other
