Why the Girl Hid Under Table Seven

CHAPTER 2 - THE WRONG NAME

The whole diner turned toward the small monitor above the register.

It showed the front parking lot in grainy black and white. A little figure in a green hoodie running from a silver sedan. The man in the blue shirt chasing after her.

Not calling for her.

Chasing.

His face hardened. "That doesn't prove anything."

"No," I said, standing. "But the wrong name does."

He swung toward me. "Mind your business."

For a moment I thought he might come across the diner table. His hands opened and closed at his sides. He wasn't just angry. He was desperate.

The waitress, Donna according to her name tag, kept the phone in her hand. "Sheriff's office is on the line."

That made him step back.

Under the table, Lucy still hadn't moved. I crouched slowly, ignoring the stiffness in my knees. "Lucy," I said, keeping my voice low. "My name's Frank. I'm not going to drag you anywhere. But I need to know if he hurt you."

She swallowed. "He took me from the rest stop."

The words landed hard.

Donna covered the receiver. "How far?"

Lucy peeked out from under the booth. "Near the vending machines. I was with my grandma. I went to get crackers, and he said Nana fell in the bathroom. He grabbed my hand."

The man lunged then, fast and ugly. "She's confused."

I moved between him and the booth before I had time to think. Old habits came back quicker than old strength. He stopped short when he saw I wasn't bluffing.

Donna shouted into the phone, "Possible abduction. Mile 17 Diner. Hurry."

The man's eyes flicked to the windows, then the back exit.

He bolted.

Not toward the road.

Toward the kitchen.

And from under the table, Lucy cried out, "His bracelet! My grandma scratched him. She said if I got away, tell the police about the saint bracelet on his arm."