Chapter 8

For a couple of minutes, Jon watched Clay, who fidgeted under the scrutiny. As if he realized what he was doing, he squared his shoulders and rested both elbows on the table. Finally, he met Jon’s gaze, although he didn’t speak.

“Care for a drink?”

“Yeah, I’d go for a Mexican beer if they have some. Maybe Tecate or Dos Equis.

As the young server wandered through the room, Jon caught her eye, and she scurried over with menus. “Sorry. I didn’t see you guys back here.”

“What kind of beer do you have?”

She rattled off a list. Tecate was among the choices.

“Bring us a couple, and we’ll order dinner when you get back.”

They both wound up with combination plates, the ones with the biggest variety the place served. For a while, they ate and talked about inconsequential things in a desultory way, finished a second beer and decided on fried ice cream for dessert.