Chapter 146: Twin Peaks Restaurant

After leaving El Paso, the desert landscape began to transition to plains. By the time Jack passed through Sonora, a small town less than 200 miles from San Antonio, the surroundings had turned into vast green plains and large forests.

Cowboys, wearing high-crowned, wide-brimmed hats and some even draped in cloaks to protect against wind and sun, were riding horses, herding cattle across the ranches. Occasionally, they would whistle loudly, accompanied by herding dogs, running and jumping around the cattle, diligently assisting their masters.

Jack soon experienced the warmth of Texas locals. While stopping at a gas station in Sonora to refuel, a stunning waitress swayed over to his car. She wore denim shorts and a tied-up shirt that left little to the imagination.

"Hey, handsome, your car looks like it guzzles gas. How about taking me for a ride?"

Jack glanced at her prominent assets and, mimicking the local cowboys, tipped his hat apologetically. "Not today, my girl is waiting for me up ahead."

Hannah's flight was landing at 5 PM, and he had less than three hours left. He couldn't afford any delays.

Not long after Jack got back on the road, several heavy Harley-Davidsons caught up with his Firebird. The waitress from earlier was now seated on the back of one of the bikes, clinging to a heavily tattooed "motorcycle enthusiast." She brazenly flipped him the bird.

Then, these guys started weaving in front of his car provocatively, accompanied by loud whoops and whistles.

Seeing these reckless "motorcycle enthusiasts," Jack sighed helplessly. He really was in a hurry.

Sticking his head out of the window, he tapped the car door to get their attention. "Hey, guys, be careful. The wind's going to pick up in a moment."

After checking the road conditions—this stretch was nearly empty—he decided to have a bit of fun.

Rolling up all the windows, Jack lightly tapped the brake, slowed down to avoid them, switched lanes, then hit the gas, revving up the engine. In less than three seconds, he had accelerated to 130 mph.

This might have been the first time this Firebird had ever reached such a speed. The bikers barely had time to react as a black blur zoomed past them and vanished.

Having toyed with the local "motorcycle enthusiasts," Jack reduced his speed to 80 mph. He didn't want to attract the attention of highway patrol. Texas was known for its strong independent streak, with many places flying the Lone Star flag instead of the Stars and Stripes.

Even if he had an FBI badge in the future, it might not hold much sway here. He might even be singled out.

Plans, however, rarely keep up with changes. He got stuck in rush hour traffic near the city, delaying him by half an hour. By the time Jack reached the airport, 10 kilometers north of downtown San Antonio, Hannah was already waiting.

The little girl, now back in Texas, had changed into a cowgirl outfit. She let out a cheer and jumped into his arms when she saw him. After spinning her around half a circle, Jack set her down.

"Okay, back here you'll have plenty of horses to ride, my cowgirl. What's the plan now?"

"Let's get to Austin for dinner, then head back to my family's farm. Uncle Thiago and Auntie have already prepared to welcome us."

After a series of unfortunate events years ago, Zoe's parents had helped Hannah sell off their family's 50-year-old ranch, retaining only a 500-acre (about 2 square kilometers) small farm and setting up a trust fund with the over $10 million proceeds.

Uncle Thiago and Auntie, a Mexican couple, had been looking after the small farm since Hannah left Texas for LA.

So, essentially, Hannah was a little rich girl and a small landowner. The nearly 3,000-acre ranch still technically belonged to her.

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Less than an hour later, Jack's Firebird pulled up in front of a restaurant in Austin called "Twin Peaks."

"Are you sure this is a restaurant and not a strip club?"

True to its name, the waitresses at the entrance were all in bikinis or outfits similar to the one Jack saw earlier at the gas station. They were all voluptuous, swaying their assets as they greeted customers.

It seemed there was some event on this Friday night. Under the bright neon lights, large banners hung with pictures of the beautiful waitresses, likely for some beauty contest.

The restaurant's parking lot was jam-packed, with half the space taken up by dozens of heavy Harley motorcycles.

Jack had no choice but to park the Firebird in a nearby mall's parking lot.

"This place is like our Texan version of Hooters but crazier and more fun."

Hannah excitedly dragged Jack forward to buy tickets.

"Alright, I know Hooters, but why do we need tickets to eat here?"

Hannah pointed to the banners with the pretty girls' photos. "Because they hold the 'Miss Twin Peaks' contest every year. The preliminaries are on now. Winners from each regional branch will compete in the finals in Arlington."

"When I was little, right after this place opened, my dad sneaked me here once. Later, I told my mom I wanted to be a 'Miss Twin Peaks,' and she chased my dad with a shotgun all the way to the Walker family's ranch."

Well, seeing all the E to F, G, and even more exaggerated sizes of "peaks" around, Jack silently gave a thumbs-up to his late father-in-law in heaven.

'Twin Peaks' was more of a sports bar than a restaurant. The food was simple: a few fruit pies, various steaks, fries, burgers, and an extensive selection of ice-cold beers.

The large restaurant had multiple bars, with many big-screen TVs on the walls and behind the bars, showing various sports programs.

It was just past 7 PM, the sun not fully set, but the place was already bustling. Along with a bunch of loud, tattooed "motorcycle enthusiasts" in holey denim vests, there were also many ordinary citizens.

There were even quite a few parents with kids, showing just how "simple" the Texas folks were.

Jack ordered a tomahawk steak, fries, and two bottles of Budweiser, glancing around. Surprisingly, the rough-looking "motorcycle enthusiasts" were behaving rather tamely.

Aside from being a bit loud, there wasn't a single smoker among them. Many held large, unlit cigars in their mouths, and there was no inappropriate behavior towards the waitresses.

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