The diner the kid at the motel had recommended was only a block away, but it still felt like a mile to Randall Lenz. Eventually, though, he managed to shuffle in and take a seat at the counter. The place felt oddly familiar, from the red, white, and chrome decor — an obvious nod to the restaurants of the 1950s that were the inspiration for the restaurant — to the brassy-haired woman who came over and asked if he’d like a cup of coffee.
“Back so soon?” she asked as she poured him some, then took a closer look at his face. “Looks like you’ve had a rough couple of days, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
He made himself focus on her name badge. Tammy. The name didn’t mean anything to him, but again, something about her exaggeratedly golden-blonde hair and heavily penciled brows seemed familia
