Sixty miles away, an hour after sunrise, Anne’s Diner was almost deserted. Farmers and ranchers in this part of the state, when the summer was in full swing and the days were long and hot, rarely visited Anne’s. Well, that is, the farmers and ranchers who were still trying to survive. Otherwise, only the old, retired ranchers and farmers came to Anne’s for hot coffee and gossip.
Anne’s DinerBut one man came to the diner every morning precisely at 7:05 am. Every day. Regardless of the weather. Regardless of the season. You could set your watch by him. So regular the old folk would look around and start asking questions if the sandy-haired, gray-eyed man wasn’t in his favorite booth eating breakfast.
Mark knew he’d find him here. Opening the heavy glass door of the diner, he strode in, nod
