Chapter 4 - THE BURNER PHONE
Julian didn't leave right away. He drank his coffee in silence, his eyes fixed on the rain-slicked highway. Before he stood up to leave, he pulled a cheap, plastic burner phone from his coat pocket and placed it on the counter next to a folded stack of fifty-dollar bills.
"Keep it under the register," Julian ordered. "If you see a black Lincoln Navigator idle in the lot for more than two minutes, press dial. It only calls one number."
"I don't want your money," Hannah said, pushing the cash back.
Julian stopped at the door. "It's not a tip. It's a retainer. You're the only person in three states who hasn't tried to put a bullet in my head this week. Keep the phone close."
When he left, Rita poked her head through the pass-through window. She was holding a heavy cast-iron skillet like a baseball bat.
May you like
"I don't like this, Hannah," Rita muttered. "That man has ghosts attached to him. Dark ones."
"I know," Hannah said, slipping the burner phone into her apron pocket. "But that baby doesn't."
