Chapter Fifteen
Donnie Lewis was fast. A greyhound on steroids. I bolted after him, knocking a waitress aside, sending a tray of drinks to the floor and earning a string of curses. I yelled an apology over my shoulder and bashed open the kitchen doors with the grace of a drunken buffalo.
I skidded to a stop on the slippery kitchen floor and scanned left and right.
Across, two confused looking cooks glanced at me. Steam filled the air with smells of melted cheese and oregano. Any other day I would have savored the culinary setting. At the back of the room, a fire exit door was swinging wildly on its hinges. Someone had left in a hurry.
I dashed between the stainless-steel countertops and stumbled over a crate of oranges near the door. Shouldering into the fire exit, I burst outside into
