Page 37 of A Seer and Present Danger

He made finger-gun motions and turned back to the grill.

I served up the pie, grabbed the coffee pot, and took that and the fries out to the table.

“Here you go, Detective…”

“Vandre. Simon Vandre.”

“…Vandre.” I placed his food on the table. “Anything else?”

The back door opened and Aggie walked in, Shelly right behind her.

I knew the moment he spotted Aggie, because he tightened up like he was ready to run, his fingertips pressed on the table as if it were a lifeline.

Aggie took a slightly wrong step and had to throw her arms out to catch herself. Then she glared at him, glared at me, and turned with a huff to help the customers at her table.

Okay, there had to be some kind of magic going on, right? The hand on the table thing? But I still couldn’t sense any magic at all.

Maybe Aggie was acting weird because he was part of her past? A bad part, if she had been telling me the truth. It didn’t take magic for people to have bad history.

“If you need something else,” I said. “Just let me know.”

He looked away from Aggie and sat back again. “I don’t suppose I could get some…”

Tabasco sauce…

Tabasco sauce…

Tabasco sauce…

“Sure thing, hang on.” I turned and pulled the tabasco sauce off of the empty table behind me and set it next to his fries. “Anything else?”

“Nope.” This time his smile was that of a canary-catching cat: satisfied. “That’s all I need.”

I wondered why he seemed so pleased with himself. Wondered if it had something to do with me, but another group sauntered in and it took four tables to get them all seated.

I kept an eye on Vandre as I worked. He didn’t do anything unusual, just ate his food, drank his drink, and scrolled on his phone, like everyone else.

Aggie was irritated he was here. I could tell by how she was stomping around. But she ignored him like they were in the finals of the biggest ignoring contest of the century.

He paid in cash, left a good tip, and strolled out of the diner like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

Aggie’s mood didn’t seem to improve after he left. I caught her snapping at the customers more than once.

And yeah, maybe I wouldn’t be in a good mood if my nosy ex-boss (stalker?) was hanging around my new job. But the customers didn’t deserve her irritation.

“Hey,” I said as we both arrived at the coffee station. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“Why don’t you stay out of my business? I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

Wow. So much for me extending the olive branch. She was obviously still worked up over Vandre.

She stormed off and almost poured hot coffee onto one of her customer’s shoes.

Buzz somehow saw that and walked out of the kitchen to tell her in a low, calm voice that she needed to go on break now. She glared at him but finally marched out the back door.

I rolled my eyes. It was clear she didn’t like Vandre in the diner, but he hadn’t caused any trouble and hadn’t looked at her more than once.

Was that how stalkers acted?