Logan picked up the fork. The eggs were good—actually good, not Bear-good, which was only somewhat edible—and he ate three bites before he registered that nobody was watching him eat. Hatch was looking out the back window. Johanna had picked up the top page of her stack and was making a small mark in the margin with a pen that came from somewhere in her hair. Walker was reading the local paper as he ate.
It was almost weird how not-weird it was.
The screen door banged open behind him, making him jump.
River came in on a gust of cold air and the smell of pine and something burnt, like he’d been standing too close to a fire pit. He was once again holding a glass mixing bowl full of cereal. A spoon stuck up out of it like a flag.
He was wearing the bunny slippers again.
“Morning, fuckers,” he said, and then he saw Logan and stopped halfway through the doorway with one rabbit foot still on the threshold. “Oh. Hi.”
“Language, Riv,” Johanna said mildly. “We have company.”
“Sorry. Morning, fuckers and Logan.” He kicked the door shut behind him with his heel and dropped into the chair beside Hatch. He tilted the bowl toward Logan. “You want some?”
“I have eggs.”
“You can have both.”
River pushed the bowl across the table anyway, like the offer was a formality and the answer was already yes. The cereal was something with marshmallows.
Logan looked at it, then at River, then at the bunny slippers, which had ears that flopped when River jiggled his foot under the table.
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” River pulled the bowl back and shoveled in a spoonful big enough to make his cheek bulge.
The back door opened again, quieter this time, and the one they called Ghost came in. He didn’t say anything. He went to the coffee pot and poured some into a mug that looked like it had been smashed and glued back together with gold. Then he leaned against the counter and glowered at the room.
Johanna glanced at him. “She’ll be back Wednesday, Owen.”
Ghost grunted.
River swallowed a mouthful of cereal. “He’s been like this since she left this morning. I caught him sitting on the Hub’s front porch, staring down the driveway like a puppy that got left behind.”
Ghost looked at him.
It was not a friendly look.
Logan went still, gaze bouncing between the two men.
“I’m just saying,” River said, scooping more cereal. “Kind of pathetic.”
“River.”
“Yeah?”
“You ever wonder how many ways there are to dispose of a body so it doesn’t get found?”
River chewed. “Not really.”
“I have a list.”
“I know you do.”
“It’s alphabetized.”
River grinned around his spoon, completely unbothered. “How often do you dream about killing me?”
