Stolen Child (Coastal Fury Book 13) - Matt Lincoln (ebook reader library .txt) 📗

in Miami!” Birn beamed, gazing down at the laminated menu in front of him. “You should feel lucky we decided to share it with you. But I figured we all needed a pick-me-up after the morning we’ve had.”

“Morning,” Muñoz scoffed, peering down at her own menu. “It’s only 8:30.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Holm groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

I turned my attention to my menu. It was one sheet, front and back, and it looked to offer a staple of regular diner favorites. It didn’t look like anything special to me, but the more I looked at it, the more my stomach grumbled, and I was having trouble deciding what to get because I wanted everything.

Thankfully, a tall, jovial-looking man with a potbelly sporting a dirty white apron came out of the back kitchen and made a beeline right for our table to rescue me from my indecision.

“Lamarr, Sylvia, you didn’t tell me you were gonna make it in today!” the man bellowed, clapping Birn on the shoulder and beaming at him. “And you brought friends!” His voice was warm, and it carried.

“This is my cousin, Buddy,” Birn said, grinning just as broadly as the other man as he reached up with his long arm and clapped him on the back while remaining seated. “Buddy, these are Ethan and Robbie. They’re MBLIS agents, too.”

“Taking a break from the old grind, I see,” Buddy said, nodding approvingly to Holm and me and shooting us a wink. “Well, I’m all for it. What can I get ya?”

Everyone was looking at me since I was in the end seat.

“Uh, I’m having trouble deciding,” I said, clearing my throat. “Why don’t you bring me whatever you recommend?”

“Oh, you won’t regret that,” Buddy assured me with a jovial laugh to match his demeanor. I handed over my menu.

“I’ll have the chocolate chip pancakes,” Holm said predictably, as he always had a sweet tooth that needed abating.

“I’ll have my usual,” Muñoz said.

“Me, too,” Birn offered, and I wondered how often they came in here.

“We’re in a few times a week, at least,” Muñoz said, reading my mind as Buddy meandered back to the kitchen, making small talk with the other customers as he went, shaking hands and patting shoulders every which way.

“He seems happy,” I remarked, watching him.

“He’s the happiest guy I know,” Birn confirmed with a nod and a laugh. “I know you wouldn’t understand it, Marston, but some people love the simple life. I have half a mind to retire and join the business with him.”

“Oh?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. This was the first I’d heard of this.

“Well, you know, getting abducted and held prisoner by a bunch of drug dealers on a remote island makes you do some thinking,” he chuckled, though there was a somberness in his eyes that told me he was serious.

“I would imagine so,” I said thoughtfully, glancing back at Buddy as he engaged in a lively conversation with one of his waitresses.

“Just don’t go running out on us yet,” Holm said, serious as well. “We need everyone we can get right now, and I don’t want to be even more outnumbered by those FBI guys.”

“Come now, enough complaining,” I said, shooting him a look. “All it feels like we do lately is complain.”

“With good reason,” Holm argued.

“Fair enough,” I relented with a shrug.

“Don’t worry, old friend, I’m not even close to finished yet,” Birn said, an excited glint in his eye as he leaned forward on the table, crossing his arms there. “Speaking of which, what do we all think about this whole Scotland business? Pretty cool, huh?”

“Which part? The one where Interpol’s stealing our case, or the one where they didn’t even bother to tell us until at least a week after the fact?” Muñoz asked coolly.

“Come on. I thought I said no complaining!” I cried as the waitress that Buddy had been talking to rushed over to dole out coffee. Birn nodded to her in thanks.

I wasn’t sure I needed any more caffeine after the stressful morning I’d already had in this still young day, but judging by the fatigue I’d been experiencing lately, I figured that I would be a fool not to accept it. So I began sipping on my cup, vowing to nurse it slowly enough that my blood pressure wouldn’t spike too much higher than it had already.

“Okay, okay,” Muñoz said, holding up her hands in defeat. “No more, I promise.”

“Thank you,” I said definitively, nodding to her.

“Now, what about Scotland?” Birn asked, just as eagerly as before. “The good parts, I mean. The parts where we have a good lead, and we might actually be close to breaking this thing.”

Holm opened his mouth as if to comment on the fact that we might not actually be the ones to break it, but he shut it again with one sharp look from me.

I was frankly done with all the bitterness after this morning. We’d been simmering in it for weeks now, all of us: FBI, MBLIS, Diane herself, it didn’t matter. We didn’t need any more negativity. It had lost its usefulness ages ago, and I was honestly glad that we’d finally had it out with the FBI agents, in a way. Now we could at least try to get to work putting it all behind us and focus on the task at hand. Or tasks. There were many of them. More than I could even count, probably.

“I think it’s exciting!” Muñoz said, setting aside her coffee and leaning forward on the table just like Birn. “I mean, think about it. We could actually have a case in Europe soon. That’d really be something.”

“Ever been?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I was stationed in Germany for a while in the military,” she said thoughtfully. “Haven’t been to Scotland, though. That would be fun. I love their accents.”

“Weird thought, people like the Hollands camping out in a tiny Scottish fishing town,” I chuckled with a nod. “I can’t think of many