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Excerpt

His phone rang and he glanced at the screen, not recognizing the number. “Chambers.”

“Detective Sean Chambers?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s Jo. Jo Lindler, the bartender at The Crystal Palace.” Her voice was all but a whisper. “We met last night.”

“I remember.”

“You gave me your card and told me to call you if I remembered anything.”

“Have you?”

“Not until I got to work tonight. It was more what was missing.”

“Can you talk now?”

“I’m on my break, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing this here.”

“What time does your shift end?”

“We close at two during the week, so I’m outta here by three.”

“Where would be good for you?”

“There’s an all-night diner at the truck stop out toward the Davidson/Wilson County line. Do you know where I’m talking about?”

“Yes, I’ll meet you there at three-thirty.”

“See you then.”

The phone went dead.

Just before three-thirty in the morning, Chambers pulled into the diner off Highway 40 in his personal vehicle. As he walked inside, he tried his damnedest to remember what the bartender looked like as a vision drifted into his mind—petite, pink spiky hair, and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. He remembered towering over her by at least a foot. At his height, that wasn’t uncommon.

He glanced around the small diner accented in yellow and bright blue. Not seeing pink hair, he found an open booth at the back of the room where he could sit with his back against the wall and have a full view of the door in front of him. He’d just settled into his seat when the waitress walked up to the table. “Coffee?” she asked as she laid a menu and a set of flatware down.

“Please.” He glanced at the flatware. “I’m expecting someone.”

She placed another menu and a set of utensils across from him before turning to retrieve a mug and a pot of coffee. “Freshly brewed,” she said as she poured the hot liquid.

He was taking his first sip when a hooded person with pink hair sticking out of the edge approached him. She had on tight leather pants, and he wondered if she had on more than a bra under the hoodie. He recognized her immediately and sat up straighter. The woman glanced over her shoulder, then slid into the seat across from him.

“You made it,” she said.

“I always follow up on a potential lead.”

“I know this was a long drive for you, so thanks for meeting me here.”

“Coffee?” The female voice came from beside her.

Jo glanced at the woman. “Please, cream and sugar.”

The waitress retreated and Jo looked back at Sean. He leaned forward with his arms resting on the table. “You got information for me?”

She nodded, but before she could answer, the waitress set her coffee mug in front of her and filled it up.

“Are you eating or just drinking?”

Sean handed the waitress his menu. “French toast, side of bacon.”

Jo looked up to see Sean staring at her expectantly. “Same,” she said as she handed the menu to the woman taking their order.

As the waitress left, Sean sipped his coffee, waiting for Jo to start talking. She took another glance over her shoulder and leaned toward him.

With her voice low, Sean leaned back in and focused on the woman in front of him. “Last night was the first time there hadn’t been a white van parked in the last spot behind the club for the last week.”

“Beside the loading dock door?”

She shook her head. “There are a few patron spots—overflow—around back. You can’t see them from the road.” She took a napkin from the holder and pulled a pen from behind her ear. After drawing a rough sketch of the building and the parking lot, she showed him exactly where the van had been. “Seems kind of odd that it had been there for a week. Jasmine goes missing, and the van doesn’t show up.” She shrugged.

“What can you tell me about the van?”

“White, utility type, no windows, Virginia license plate.” She furrowed her brow and closed her eyes as if trying to see the tag in her mind’s eye. “There’s an H in the third position. I don’t know why that stands out to me, but it does.”

Sean scribbled notes on the small pad he pulled from his jacket pocket. “Anything else?”

“Not off the top of my head.”

He slipped the drawing into his notepad and put it back into his inside jacket pocket.

“Order up,” a voice said from not too far away.

Sean sat back while their plates were placed before them. Once they were alone, he said, “Do you know if there are any cameras that will show the area?”

“I’m not sure, but I can find out.”

“Did you see anyone in the van?”

She chuckled. “I’m sure they’re male, but actual faces, no.”

Sean took in every aspect of Jo, her face, her actions. He knew what he needed, and she could either help him or hurt him. He was counting on the former. Stuffing a bite of French toast into his mouth and taking a sip of his coffee, he decided it was now or never. “Um, Jo, would you consider being my eyes and ears in the club?”

Jo bit off a piece of bacon and stared at Sean. “Like an informant?” she asked as she chewed her food.

“Yeah.”

Jo fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t know. If anyone found out…”

“I’ll talk to the sheriff to see if there’s any money in the coffers to pay you.”

She cut her French toast. Taking a bite, she stared out the window. “What would I have to do?”

“Meet with me, tell me anything you see or hear that could link to Jasmine’s disappearance, or anyone else, for that matter. You know as well as I do that the strippers and prostitutes talk. Maybe there’s a connection between Jasmine and some of the other girls that have vanished.”

She turned back to face him. “Yeah, I can do that.”

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About the Author

I’m Savannah Maris, a southern girl and hopeless romantic. I’m passionate about writing stories that incorporate southern charm with a little spice.

I grew up on a farm in a small southern town with a love of sports, dance, and music which usually find their way into my books. My husband and I have two grown children. When I’m not writing, my husband and I are attending sporting events, traveling, or working.

What will find in my books? You’ll find suspense and romance in the Riverton Crossing Series. If contemporary romance is what you’re looking for, try Crossroads of the Heart.

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