"Now you're just being mean."
Sterling chuckled as he took his coffee and turned. The front booth in the window was his favorite spot. Perfect sightline for the street and door. And he could position his back against the wall. There was a running joke that this table was reserved for the local police and fire department as well as the Aegis Network. Almost no one else dared.
The morning had that washed-clean look the Gulf gave a town after a wet night. Bright yellow streaks of light poured over the hardware store across the street and turned the puddles inthe gutter into strips of blinding tin. A pelican sat on the awning of the bait shop two doors down.
He wrapped both hands around the coffee cup and let the heat of it sink into his palms as last night's events played out in his mind. Every detail scrolled across his brain like a metric of data. Pieces of conversation floated by like lines of code. Images of those who had surrounded him and Juniper at the Crab Shack floated by like a digital map.
The only things out of place had been Doyle and Anthony. He replayed the moments leading up to when Anthony had decided to ruin everyone's evening. This was normally the kind of situation when his mind was a blessing. Currently, it was a useful, but frustrating tool. Try as he might, he hadn't been able to pull enough pertinent information to properly sort the data from the robbery attempt.
That was the thing. He might have the ability to recall just about everything, but it still had to be logged and categorized. And it also had to have enough pixels, as he liked to call the picture details. Last night had the details regarding Anthony. What he was wearing. How he moved. What he said. But there was a layer of haze over him, like he was wandering through the fog on a dark night. It wasn't just that Anthony didn't fit in Calusa Cove, it was that the burglary didn't fit, either.
Sure, random acts of violence happened all the time. Crimes of convenience. But places like the Crab Shack didn't carry large amounts of cash. Most people paid by credit card. It was fifteen percent cash to eighty-five credit. Robbing a restaurant till wasn't a good bet.
He took a sip of his coffee, and his lips decided to remind him of how Juniper's mouth had felt against his. He'd tossed and turned all night because being a gentleman was harder than it looked. Not that she'd even hinted that she considered inviting him in. Nor had he asked.
He was still fixated on the idea that Juniper might have been sent to Calusa Cove to watch him. Was that because she was there to help protect what was in his brain? Or was she there to learn his patterns and wait until the right moment to attack.
The latter seemed a little far-fetched, even for his paranoid mind. She'd been in Calusa Cove too long. She was far too memorable, and it would be obvious if she disappeared the same time something happened to Sterling.
He groaned as he noticed Stacey Mohawk, local newscaster, but more like local gossip reporter, walking up the sidewalk. Her hair was perfectly styled, and she wore a blazer, white shirt, and pressed skirt. She looked on-air ready, as usual. Following casually, two steps behind her, a young kid from the station he recognized as Carter, carried his camera.
"Shit."
Stacey and Carter entered the café, and she made a beeline for his table.
"Good morning." She slid into the bench across from him without being invited, and the cameraman hovered by the door, camera on his shoulder, waiting like a vulture. "I thought I was going to have to drive to your office but look at this."
"Whatever you want, the answer is no, and it will be no at the office, too."
"I just have a few questions." She set her phone on the table, screen up, the recorder on red, but all it took was one tap. "I want to talk to you about what happened at the Crab Shack last night and find out more about the man who helped you."
He leaned back, raised his mug, and took a long, slow sip. He swallowed, enjoying the bitter flavor. "I've got no comment."
"Sure you do." She wiggled her finger over the screen.
He shook his head.
She sighed but didn't remove the cell from the center of the table. "Come on, Sterling. You work for a private security firm.You're former CIA. And somebody took a shot at you in a room full of witnesses." She leaned in. "The community needs to hear from you."
"Get a statement from the police department."
She narrowed her stare and drew her lips into a tight line.
"I take it Dawson doesn't want to go in front of your mike." He picked up his coffee.
"He's a little busy right now."
"Well, I've got nothing to say."
She smiled, big, and it was always dangerous when Stacey did that. She was calculating her next move, and that was never good. She gathered her phone from the table and tucked it away. Standing, she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Maybe Juniper will have something to say. I heard she was amazing during the situation. And maybe she can point me in the direction of that handsome stranger."
Small fucking towns. "Maybe."
Stacey turned and waved her hand over her head. "See you around."
God, he hoped not.
He pulled out his cell.
