He bit his lip and glanced at the floor. "I'm not sure I—"
"Charithra may come by," I reminded him.
"I'd love to," he said, his entire face lighting up.
I waved goodbye, and then Jack and I headed out.
"Can we still get lunch?" Jack asked wistfully when we were in the truck, buckling our seatbelts. "I'm hungry."
I started laughing, despite everything. "Jack. You're always hungry."
"You're not wrong."
He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Beau's. I almost stayed silent, but I really needed to know.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"I think we need to talk about Quinn."
He blew out a breath. "Okay. But we're going to need more time than just on the drive to Beau's."
Somehow, this did not reassure me.
6
Tess
I pushed open the door to find Beau's in a state of pure chaos with a side order of irrational.
The only diner in town was always the center of gossip, but I'd never seen it filled with people shouting at each other until today. Even when the Irish mob came to Dead End and threatened me, people had been fairly well-mannered about telling them to back off or risk dismemberment.
This? This was about a half-step away from a riot.
And I didn't understand why.
Jack followed me in, took one look around, and roared.
Heroared.
A tiger's roar was a primal declaration of power and threat. Even other dangerous predators backed down at the sound. Though he was still in human form, Jack's roar nearly blew the roof off the place.
The residents of Dead End were no match for it at all.
Silverware clattered onto tabletops. All conversation and shouting stopped, and every pair of eyes in the restaurant turned to us.
I waved and smiled. "Hey, y'all. How's it going?"
Lorraine, the heart of Beau's for the past half century, grinned at us and bustled over as fast as today's neon-orange orthopedic shoes could carry her. She handed us menus, not that she'd ever allow us to order from them.
The special was the special at Beau's.
"It's about time someone with sense showed up," she said, her short silver hair shining. "I figured you'd be here. Saved your table by the window."
She turned to the room and waved an arm. "It's only a week till Christmas. Let's have some darned Christmas spirit around here!"
In the corner near the entry to the kitchen, two Santas in full regalia stood inches apart, fists clenched, red-faced, and out of breath. One of them—Darryl—had what was definitely going to be a real beauty of a black eye, and the other—Rooster—had a bloody nose.
