A Minor Technicality [Completed] *Slowly Editing*

Chapter 40 - All Night Diner

Luca POV

The harsh lights of the old diner cast a yellow pallor on the eager, spray-tanned waitress currently eye raping Walker. Her black hair was pulled tightly in a high ponytail, and her hand had been overly generous with the eighties era make-up. Thick eye-liner surrounded her indigo eyes, with wings dramatically drawn at the ends.

She had an okay figure, but she was showing way too much of it. Her ample breasts were covered, but in a thin, white t-shirt two sizes too small. "Al's Diner" was printed like a neon billboard across her rack. Al was probably thrilled at the attention she drew to his business whenever she wore her uniform. Her black skirt just barely covered her ass, and I hadn't figured out how she was able to maneuver the room on her six-inch stiletto heels.

That being said, she was one of the most efficient waitresses I'd ever seen...in spite of her suggestive stares at Zane. Walker just rolled with it. He was used to the female attention, but when she turned her charms on Eastcott, I swear his entire face burnt cherry red. After that, he refused to make eye contact with her. Instead, he studied the toxic sludge in his mug. Evidently, the diner tried to pass it off as coffee.

While Walker and Eastcott devoured their early morning meal, and Walker entertained the attentions of the desperate brunette, my stomach churned with a month's worth of acid. On a good day, my preferred fragrance wasn't Eau de Grease, but on this day, my stomach couldn't take it. The smells of burgers, pancakes, and coffee nauseated me. My jaw was aching from the constant grinding of my teeth, and the base of my neck was tight with tension. Unable to stomach food, I continued to poison myself with straight black coffee, which definitely wasn't helping the nausea. My body was exhausted, but my mind was on a never-ending torturous loop. I needed to find Blythe, and I needed to find her now.

We'd been waiting in the diner for almost an hour. The chrome plated clock above the register indicated we'd long since passed four a.m. Some of the club and bar crowd had wandered through the glass doors after last call, the loud drunks filling the torn red leather booths and chairs. The sounds of their chatter mixed with the yelling from the busy kitchen, the clatter of dishes and silverware, and the jukebox that alternately played classic oldies and modern country music. The red neon of the "Open 24 Hours" sign flashed just outside my window seat, and I scanned the parking lot for Natalie. I hoped she'd come bearing good news, but I doubted our luck would be that fortuitous.

"Oh, honey, you are just too cute," a syrupy sweet voice enthused.

I turned back to the table in front of me. Blankly, I stared as Josie (our extremely forward waitress), rested her bright red talons on Walker's shoulder and laughed at something he said. His expression was encouraging, but I could read his eyes, and Walker was no more interested in this clown-faced bimbo than he was interested in joining the Catholic priesthood. Ignoring the failing seduction, my eyes seemed to stare through them as my mind replayed the fruitless evening we'd had.

After leaving the idiot who'd been more concerned with Blythe's ass than his missing truck, we'd gone on a wild goose chase. Toms and Burke hurried to the site of Jimmy's abandoned SUV to pick up the man, whose name was (no freaking kidding) Cletus Anderson. They took care of transporting him to the local police station and assisting with interviewing him. Unfortunately, his interview gave us absolutely nothing to go on.

We used the tracking system on Mr. Anderson's truck, which seemed much more reliable than his comment of "I think they went that way?" The thought made me growl. He was fucking useless. We drove for several hours, and were finally able to locate the Toyota in a mall parking lot, but there was no trace of Michael or Blythe. We found no witnesses, and we weren't able to determine how they left. After hours searching and a few pointless interviews, we abandoned that dead end.