Edith bustled toward the kitchen, giving Flint a quick reprieve and a chance to collect himself.

  CJ whispered fiercely, “Lord, Flint, what’s up with you? You just zoned out to the waitress. Is ordering a cup of coffee too hard?’

  Flint mumbled quietly, “Sorry, CJ. Nobody’s called me ‘Sugar’ since Amber…”

  “Oh shit. Sorry, Flint. I completely forgot! I didn’t mean anything by that…”

  Flint sighed and shrugged. “It’s okay, CJ, she didn’t know, and you shouldn’t have to tip-toe around my feelings. I just need to get over it. What’s done is done. Amber’s gone and she’s not coming back.”

  “I know, Flint, but still it’s hard. Have you thought about talking to anybody about it?”

  Flint shook his head resolutely. “No need. I’m a lot better than I used to be. I just need to push it down and keep it down. One day I won’t even think about it anymore.”

  Exasperated, CJ said, “You shouldn’t have to push it down, and you need to remember…”

  “Okay, Sugar, here’s your regular black coffee,” Edith interrupted, placing the cup and saucer in front of Flint. She stood poised, pen at the ready, awaiting their order.

  CJ eyed Flint, who was busy studying his menu with the intensity of a bomb tech deciding which wires to cut. She sighed and replied, “I’ll have the ‘King-sized Slapstack Special with bacon and sausage, two eggs over medium.”

  Edith nodded, impressed. “Well, I don’t know where a little thing like you is going to put all of that, but I guess looks can be deceiving, huh?” She gave CJ a knowing wink, ignoring her smirk. “Okay, Sugar, what about you?” She turned to Flint.

  Flint handed her the menu and said, “I’ll have the Royalty three-egg cheese omelet with cheese grits, please. No toast. And just keep the coffee coming.”

  Edith scratched the order on her pad, and smiled. “All right, folks, I’ll have these back out to you in a jiffy. Let me know if you need anything else.” She turned and scurried back to the kitchen to turn in their order.

  Flint and CJ watched her walk away, both unsure as to how anyone could be that upbeat this early — or late, depending on your point of view. “Boy, she’s a piece of work,” CJ muttered, slurping her coffee.

  “Yeah, no kidding. I’ve still got enough alcohol in my system to be declared legally drunk in 48 states,” Flint murmured, carefully sipping his cup of steaming brew.

  CJ laughed quietly and shook her head. “I should have warned you about Cinder. It’s impossible to keep up with him. I’ve never seen anyone able to contain as much alcohol as him and not be embalmed.”

  “Have you been drinking with him?” Flint queried, his eyebrows arched.

  “Cinder? Yes, once.” She shook her head at the recollection. “He challenged me to do twenty Fireball shots with him the afternoon I completed my Incendiary Certification. You know how I hate to lose, but let’s just say there’s a lot I don’t remember about that occasion,” she muttered and then shuddered. “I think he has a hollow leg,”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how he does it. I watched him dissemble a hard-wired suicide vest after a hard night of drinking. He was just as clear-eyed as if he’d been studying his Sunday School lesson all night.” Flint cupped his hands around the coffee cup on the table and fell silent.

  CJ sat silently as well, quietly sipping her coffee and staring vacantly at the tabletop. In the background was the muted strains of some Keith Urban song, which provided the perfect soundtrack to their evening.

  Suddenly, Edith was back with an armful of plates of hearty breakfast food. It was easy to see why the place was such a favorite with the locals — generous portions and the food was served hot and delicious. “Here you go, folks. Hope everything is just as you like it. Let me know if we’ve overlooked anything or if you need anything else.” She exhaled, her perspiring face beaming with the look of a job well done. She fluffed a stray hair from her forehead, and added, “I’ll be back in a few to check on your coffees and give you a quick refresh.” She dashed away, a flurry of motion ready to dispense more culinary satisfaction to her next table.

  “Wow,” Flint said, studying the heaping plates of steaming food. “I’ve heard about this place, but it’s the first time I’ve been here. I just realized I’m starving. After my own personal ‘Cinder Drinking Challenge’ yesterday and finding that young woman’s arm, I haven’t been able to keep much in my stomach.”

  CJ looked up, her cheeks stuffed with eggs, sausage and a bite of biscuit, “I swear, Flint, sometimes I think you have the intestinal fortitude of a new mother with morning sickness.”

  Flint contemplated her stuffed face as she contentedly slurped another mouthful of coffee. It was amazing. CJ could sometimes eat like a horse, but she never appeared to gain an ounce. Her metabolism must be on hyperdrive. He speared a mouthful of his omelet and relished the savory cheese and fluffy eggs. He smirked and added, “Well, you eat like a field hand, so there’s that…”

  She gave him a deadpan stare and stuck out her tongue at him as she took another bite of sausage. “You’re just jealous because I can kick your butt, Stryker.” She gave him an impish grin and chewed her food vigorously.

  Flint had to admit that CJ could indeed ‘kick his butt.’ In hand-to-hand combat training, she was almost always able to gain the upper hand. He liked to pretend that it was because psychologically he held back. After all, she was a woman, but he knew that wasn’t the case. She was simply better than he was. If it weren’t for his innate prescient abilities, he wouldn’t even be able to hang with her at all. He hoped it never came down to having to fight her to survive. She was that good.

  Edith swept by and topped off their coffees, giving them each a beatific ‘Mom Smile’ before hustling to the next table to do the same.

  “She’s really something.” Flint marveled as he chewed, watching Edith make each of her customers feel special.

  “Yea, she is,” CJ agreed. “I’ve gotten to know her a little bit, and she’s a pretty special lady. Her ex-husband was a mean drunk who ran off and left her and her two young kids. She works two jobs and takes care of everything with no help that I know of.” CJ looked at her admiringly. “And yet, she always has a smile and a kind word for everybody. I’ve never seen her upset or angry, even when rude customers stiff her or give her a hard time.”

  Flint continued to watch Edith as she floated from table to table, dispensing food and good cheer. The door entry tone signaled another arrival, greeted by the standard “Welcome to Waffle King. What’ll ya have?” Flint swept his eyes toward the door and froze, his forkful of eggs frozen halfway to his mouth. His Precog suddenly clanged like a tornado alert alarm.

  The beautiful young woman surveyed the restaurant looking for an empty booth or table. When her gaze met Flint’s, her brow furrowed and her face twisted into an obvious scowl.

  It was the angry woman from O’Toole’s Bar.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  CJ looked up from her plate to see Flint staring wide-eyed at the young woman who’d just walked into the restaurant. She followed his gaze and tutted quietly, whispering, “Is that all you think about, Flint? I know she’s a good-looking woman, but Jesus — quit staring!”

  Flint hurriedly swallowed his mouthful as the young woman broke her gaze with Flint and settled at a table behind them, her back to them. Edith hurried over, handing her a menu and greeting her with a heartfelt, “Hi, hon. What’ll you have to drink?”

  “I’m not staring at her like that, CJ!” Flint whispered. “That’s a woman Cinder and I saw yesterday at O’Toole’s when we were drinking. I was nine sheets in the wind and thought about trying to make time with her, but she would have none of it. Can you believe it?”

  CJ rolled her eyes. “No, I can’t believe that any woman wouldn’t find a shit-faced Flint Stryker irresistible. Give me a break, Flint.”

  “No!” he hissed. “I mean, I can’t believe I’m seeing her again and my Precog is going off just like it did at O’Toole’s! Cinder had seen her before and said she was bad news. She definitely gave off a very bad vibe to both of us. She was very hostile and aggressive. Something’s not right about her. I don’t know what it is, but she’s bad news… somehow.”

  Her curiosity piqued, CJ craned her neck to get a look at the young woman. “She looks pretty normal to me from what I can tell,” CJ whispered. “I can’t see her face, but I don’t see any horns or anything. Are you sure it’s the same woman? I mean, after all, you were pretty drunk.”

  Flint leaned forward and put his hand on CJ’s wrist. “I’m sure it’s her!” he whispered loud enough that a couple at a nearby table cast sidelong glances at them. He lowered his voice again. “CJ, I’m sure it’s her. You didn’t see the look she gave me. She recognized me and she looked like she could cut my throat and not think twice about it.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t know her,” CJ deadpanned.

  “I’m serious, CJ. You know my Precog is usually pretty reliable. This woman is bad news. I’m sure of it. For all we know, she could be tied to the explosion tonight.”

  CJ chewed slowly, pondering Flint’s comments. “That might be a stretch, but we both know it’s not out of the realm of possibility. You’re sure your Precog doesn’t just go off when a woman rejects you? I mean, if that’s the case, that thing would be going off 24/7…”

  Ignoring the jibe, Flint scoffed. “Trust me, CJ, this is the real thing. I don’t know what the connection is, but this lady is trouble. Let’s finish up and get out of here and keep an eye on her and see where she goes. We can go sit in my car and observe her from across the street.”

  “I guess it can’t do any harm. It doesn’t look like we’re going to get any sleep tonight anyway. Who knows, we might get lucky and find something we don’t expect.”

  The two of them hurried through the remainder of their late-night meal, and Flint got the check from Edith, who appeared as if by magic and asked if they needed anything to go. She hugged CJ and said, “Now don’t be a stranger. You come by anytime and bring your nice young man with you.” Knowing it was too complicated to explain, CJ smiled and nodded, and replied, “We will. See you again soon, Edith.” They slid out of the booth to head to the register to pay.

  As they approached the register, they purposely kept their eyes diverted from the woman seated at a booth about twenty feet from where they’d been seated. As Flint paid the check, he discreetly looked at his reflection in a long mirror behind the counter and saw that the woman was staring directly at him. He quickly averted his eyes, but knew she’d seen him, and knew she realized he recognized her.

  Flint and CJ exited the restaurant, and Flint could feel the woman’s eyes practically boring through him. They crossed the street and casually walked to his car parked on the street. Flint opened the passenger door for CJ and walked back to the driver’s side. As he walked, he glanced back at the Waffle King and saw that the woman was glaring at him through the window, watching him intently as he got in his car.

  “Wow. She was certainly staring a hole through you, Flint. And I see what you mean about the negative vibe. She’s putting off bad mojo like heat waves.”

  Flint started his car and shifted into drive as they both looked at the woman directly, knowing she couldn’t possibly see them through the darkened windows of Flint’s car. CJ took several photos of the woman with her mobile, using the telephoto optics to get the best close-up possible.

  Flint drove slowly round the block, returning to an alley across the street, turning off his headlights before parking facing the restaurant. While Flint kept his eye on the Waffle King, CJ checked several news sites on her mobile.

  “Looks like they’ve been able to find a tentative motive and cause for the tonight’s explosion at the fitness center, Flint.”

  He turned to face CJ, “Yeah? What does it say?”

  “Not a lot, but some young woman posted some kind of manifesto that went live after the bombing. They’re not releasing a lot of details other than it appears she was involved in some sort of quasi-religious organization and is taking responsibility for the explosion.”

  “Interesting. Can we get a look at the manifesto?”

  “No. Apparently, the chat site she posted the video to took it down shortly after it was posted. It was only up for less than an hour or so until the site administrator removed it. I’m sure the internet freaks and hackers will have screenshots and possibly copies of the video for all to see in no time.”

  “What was the site it was posted to?” Flint asked.

  CJ scrolled quickly through the pages on her phone and replied, “I’m seeing some references to something called ‘Church of the Divinely Redeemed Sisterhood.’ I’ve never heard of that. How about you?”

  He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, not me. You see a link or anything with more information?”

  CJ scrolled again, clicking a few links and pursuing the information she found. “Hm. Interesting. At first glance, it just seems like a religious organization that focuses on women’s issues and addresses the tenets of the faith through a feminine worldview. It’s pretty vanilla except for that. Nothing stands out as implying any threats or advocating any kind of violence.”

  Flint leaned near to view the information displayed on CJ’s mobile screen. “Nice website. Professional. Clean-looking. Somebody spent some money to put that together.” He tapped the screen. “Surprise, surprise. A link where you can make a ‘tax-deductible donation to the Church of the Divinely Redeemed Sisterhood.’”

  CJ grinned. “Yeah, shocker. There’s a link for that on every page, as well as a link to their chat site.” She clicked the chat link and was rewarded with an error message. “Hmmm - says the chat site is temporarily down for site maintenance. Probably offline till they get the manifesto post sorted out with the authorities.”

  Flint nodded and casually turned his eyes back toward the restaurant. He jerked alert instantly, mouthing the word, “Crap!”

  “What’s up?” CJ queried.

  “The woman,” Flint responded. “She’s gone!”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Flint and CJ scoured the street looking for the woman.

  “Maybe she went to the restroom,” CJ mused.

  “Maybe,” Flint agreed. “We’ll keep an eye out to see if she comes back in a few minutes.”

  The air in the car grew close with tension as the two Linchpin agents waited anxiously to see if the woman returned to her seat. After ten minutes, CJ said, “No woman goes to the bathroom in a greasy spoon diner and spends any more time than necessary in the bathroom. Something’s up, Flint.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Flint agreed. “Why don’t we go and check it out? You go check the restroom and see if by some chance she’s still in there, and I’ll go around back. Do you have your gun?”

  “Always,” she said, patting a slight bulge under her warmup jacket.

  “Don’t take any chances. She could be a head case.”

  “Please. I’m the ‘Least-Chance-Taking-Girl’ you’ll ever meet.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Flint grinned. “You hang around with me.”

  “And here we are,” she agreed, flashing him a beautiful smile. She opened her door and stepped into the cool night air.

  The two of them made their way to the restaurant, CJ going directly to the front door and making her way to the restrooms. Flint moved cautiously down the restaurant’s alley toward the rear. Lit only by an arc light on a pole, many shadows were cast in the gloom. Flint edged by the food dumpster, the recycling dumpster, and the regular dumpster, finally concluding that there was no one behind the restaurant.

  Suddenly, the back door opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a dirty apron stepped out in the night, carrying two huge bags of garbage. Seeing Flint standing there, poised and ready, he was momentarily taken aback. Eyeing Flint suspiciously, he called out, “Hey! What are you doing back here?”

  Flint held up his hands to indicate he meant no harm and replied, “Sorry! Just looking for a friend.”

  The man considered this for a moment, then he scoffed, and replied, “That’s bullshit. If you’ve got friends who hang out in the back of the Waffle King at almost 3:00 in the morning, you need better friends. Get lost.” He gave Flint an intimidating look and tossed the first of the two bags into the dumpster.

  “Right. I’m out,” Flint replied, nodding to the man, and turned to go back toward the front of the restaurant. As he stepped into the glow of the street light at the front of the restaurant, Flint looked both ways, searching for the woman. Nothing. She’d vanished into thin air — if she’d left the restaurant.

  He looked through the glass window of the restaurant and could see CJ chatting with Edith, the older woman speaking animatedly, smiling the whole time. CJ nodded, then hugged Edith, and walked to the exit, calling back over her shoulder.

  CJ came out the door, gave Stryker a quick look as if to ask, ‘Find anything?’ He shook his head. “Nothing. Only one of the cooks taking out some garbage.”

  “I told Edith we realized after we’d left that I recognized her as a friend, so I came back to check on her,” CJ began. “Edith said that not long after we left, she called her over and asked her if there was another way out of the restaurant. She said some creep had been stalking her and she was afraid. Edith told her she could exit through the kitchen to the back door, and no one would see her leave. Edith asked if she could call the police, and the woman said she’d be fine if she could just leave without being seen. She pretended to go to the restroom and slipped out the back door.”

  Flint ran a hand through his thick auburn hair, “Ugh. We didn’t miss her by much.” He huffed, “The story about a stalker gives her good cover, but why? She couldn’t have any idea who we are.”

  The two of them walked back across the street toward Flint’s car. “I think she recognized you and you spooked her for some reason,” CJ replied. “I asked Edith how she knew the woman, and she said she comes in occasionally, not always at the same time, just random — so she must live nearby. She says the woman has some serious anger issues. She’s always worked up about something or another about men.” She turned to face him, her eyes wide. “And listen to this, Flint. She’s tried to interest Edith in that Church of the Divinely Redeemed Sisterhood. She says for women like her who’ve been mistreated by men, it’s a path to help and dignity, with the support of a loving ‘sisterhood’ of female believers.”

 

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