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Brian introduced everyone, then got right down to business. There was no time for chitchats and, frankly, he wasn’t in the mood and his team was never in the mood. It was eight in the morning, all of them had places to go and things to do, Brian was sure the chef did as well. “Is your server here?”

“Yes.” John turned and waved his hand over his head, signaling for someone. “He’s ready. I didn’t tell him too much, just that you wanted him to view a couple photos and answer some questions.”

They waited for the lanky server to make his way through the dining room.

Chef turned to them, his white coat gleaming as if it was fresh from the cleaners. “You gentlemen can sit down if you like. Can I get you any coffee? I have an arrangement of breakfast pastries.”

They all declined the food and continued to stand. The chef seemed as if he didn’t understand, glancing back and forth between them.

“Gentlemen?” Quick snorted under his breath, making Duke chuckle and apologize.

“No, thank you. You’ve done more than enough already,” Duke said graciously. Out of all of the roughnecks, Duke was the most tactful. “We don’t wanna be a bother. My guys’ll be outta your hair real fast.”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” The chef piped in eagerly. “Sharon. Bring the assortment and coffee, please.”

“Hey if the man says it’s no bother then don’t be rude, fellas.” Dana grinned, rubbing his greedy hands again. It appeared as if he was becoming a fan of Chef John. “Don’t know about ya’ll, but I haven’t had breakfast.”

Ford turned sharply towards Dana. Even through Ford’s irritated glare, the love for his partner shone through.

The young server turned the corner and stumbled when he got a good look at them. “Hello. I’m Marlow Jones. Chef says you want me to identify someone.” He might’ve walked timidly and needed to straighten his spine when he entered a room; but, the kid’s voice was deep and confident.

“If you can, that’d help us a lot.” Duke stepped forward. He took a five-by-seven of the jumper he’d gotten off the internet—not wanting to show a kid a mugshot—and held it in front of him. “Do you recognize him?”

Marlow darted his head up quickly and nodded. “Yes. I recognize him. He’s ordered plenty of times. Lousy tipper.”

Duke turned and checked his team. They were all probably thinking the same thing. Let’s get this fucker now! But, Brian didn’t want to appear too ready and scare the young man, so he was relieved when Duke turned back and in an even tone asked, “What’s his room number? Do you remember his name?”

The kid bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “We rarely pay attention to names and he switches rooms every time he stays. He doesn’t stay in the same one. I’ve delivered to him on the eighth, twelfth, second, even in the penthouse once. I don’t really know.”

“Does he have a regular time he orders?” Duke asked.

“Um no. Kinda random,” The boy said.

“We only provide lunch and dinner for room service, so the time frame is between four and eleven.” The chef added.

Brian noted that window of time.

“What days did he order last week?” Quick asked.

“He didn’t.” The boy glanced up and to the right while he remembered. “I mean he probably ordered out. Lots of places deliver to this hotel, too. I’m sorry. I really didn’t pay that close attention to the guy.”

Duke waved off the boy’s distress. “This is good. You’re doing great, Marlow, this all helps a lot.”

“You’ll make a damn good bounty hunter with that eidetic memory, man.” Quick gave him a fist bump and the kid regarded each of them, taking in their clothes and gear…and beamed proudly.

Brian knew the young man was telling the truth by the way he racked his brain to give Duke the answers he wanted. He was small, maybe bullied a bit in high school, always wanted to walk the halls with the bigger guys. Whenever Duke or Quick complimented Marlow on the answers he gave, his backbone firmed just a bit more. Brian nodded subtly to his brother when he turned to him for confirmation. Marlow wasn’t lying.

“How do we know he’s here now, not jumping hotels?” Dana frowned.

Duke turned to Brian. “Thoughts?”

“He’s not jumping hotels, he’s just jumping rooms. I seriously doubt he’ll have this kind of in-house assistance at another hotel,” Ford translated for him. “Remember, this isn’t a typical thug we got. This guy has years of Ivy League schooling. He may be privileged and sheltered but he’s still smart. I would hop rooms too and use an alias each time. We stick with the plan.”

Duke and Quick both agreed.

Marlow stared at Brian like he was the Incredible Hulk. Brian tried to give him an encouraging look, but he was sure there was no smile or even tilt to his lips. He was pissed and tired. He’d been hoping to put an end to this damn case today. Now, it had become a whole operation.

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