Early in the morning the next day, by nine o’clock, Roland had already arrived at the venue where he’d scheduled a meeting with Zoey and Detective Gerald. He sat on the fourth row of the diner, legs crossed, awaiting their arrival.
“Forty-five minutes past nine,” Roland muttered. He glanced away from his wristwatch, flashing his gaze around at the few people present, and then back to the cup of coffee on the table. He picked up the cup, about to have a sip when a sudden sound rattled the silence.
The door into the diner swung open, and Zoey walked in, behind her was Detective Gerald. They both looked around, spotting him where he sat.
Roland’s eyes narrowed as they approached the table.
“Mr. Smith,” Zoey said calmly. She halted by the table, exhaling a soft breath as she sat on the c
