Chapter 4: The Diner

There was a diner across the street from the Lakeshore building, the kind with a pie case by the register.

Wyatt Mercer held the door and let me choose the booth.

I chose the one facing the street, so I could see if Cory came out of the building.

Wyatt sat across from me and put his phone on the table.

"Order whatever you want," he said. "I'm paying, and I'm not asking for anything."

"Everyone asks for something."

"Then I'll ask you to eat the pie before I say it."

I ordered the lemon meringue and a tea.

He ordered black coffee and watched me instead of the menu.

His forearms were covered in thin white scars, short and straight, and one thumbnail was split down the middle.

"Cabinetmaker," he said, when he saw me look. "The saw is not my friend."

"Does your sister know you're here?"

"She knows I wanted to talk to you. She cried for three hours last night and told me the whole thing."

"Which whole thing?"

"That she thought she was seeing a man whose marriage was over."

"And that this morning she found out it wasn't."

The pie arrived, and I picked up my fork and put it down again.

"Monique knew he was married."

"She did," Wyatt said. "She knew the whole time, and she isn't going to tell you otherwise. That's partly why I came."

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