Page 56 of Falling for Her

Finley:

We’re going to have a movie night. But I will not let him fall asleep on the couch.

Me:

Sounds good. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.

Finley:

10-4

I snort out a chuckle and put my phone down as I continue to watch the door. The hour arrives, no Randy. It turns into an hour and a half, and finally, when it’s closing in on the two-hour mark, I spot Randy walking toward the diner. He’s wearing a black hoodie and black jeans that look like they have mud caked on them. His head is moving side to side to make sure he isn’t being followed. I get out of my car and met him at the door.

“You know, you are bringing more attention to yourself than not,” I say. “Who in their right mind wears a sweatshirt in the middle of summer?”

He takes the hood off. “I was trying to blend in.” He looks around. “People could be watching us,” he whispers. Nothing sticks out to me, but he might not be wrong. “You pissed off a lot of people the other night.”

“Let’s go inside and get something to eat. If they are watching, they won’t know what this is about.”

I go in and choose a window booth. He slides in across from me. “What do you want to eat?”

“A burger.” He taps his thumb on the table. He’s still acting like he expects a whole SWAT team to charge in.

When the waitress arrives, I order us both a burger. When she steps away, I look at Randy.

“Okay, tell me what you heard.”

He debates whether he’ll talk for half a second before he starts. “They got a tip-off that you guys were going to be there, so they stalled you guys and off-loaded right before you got there.”

“Do you know who tipped them off?”

He shakes his head. “Not directly, but from what I heard, it came from inside. They knew that shit was going down. They even knew you were all over at that place on Park Street waiting, and the routes you guys were going to take.”

“I’m going to need names, Randy. I can’t go in there with this and not have a name.”

“I don’t have a—” He stops talking when the door opens, and two guys come in. He leans closer, lowering his voice even more. “I heard it from a friend, who heard it from another friend, who knows one of the runners.”

“When do you think their next drop will be?” I ask him, matching his volume.

The waitress comes with our burgers. Once she’s gone, he shrugs.

“They’re waiting to hear what you guys are up to next.” He dives into his burger as if he hasn’t eaten in a month.

“You think if I gave you some intel, you could get it to them?” I’m thinking we might be able to trip them up. I take a casual bite of my burger.

“No way, man. I don’t want to be any more involved in this than I am already.”

“Fine, but you need to keep your eyes and ears open. I want to know if you hear anything else.”

He groans. “Man, this is fucked up. I don’t want to be in this. Can’t you just take what I gave you and move on?”

I think about pushing him, but I don’t want to burn my bridges. “For now.” I grab a napkin and clean my hands before tossing it on the table. “But if I need anything else⁠—”

“Don’t call me.” He gets out of the booth. “Forget that we even had this conversation.”

“I’ll be in touch,” I tell him as he puts his hood back on. He escapes through the door.

I pay the bill, leave the diner, and call Cathy right away. “I’m on my way back to the station.”