“I don’t care.” He slid it away. “Whatever you recommend. Breakfast food.”
“Coming right up.”
He considered leaving. If Dina thought Lola was still with Johnny, she was worse off than him. She waddled over to the counter, ripped off his ticket and refilled a water glass at the only other table with a customer. Beau didn’t want breakfast food. He wanted to find Lola.
His cell vibrated in his pocket, and he answered it immediately. “Bragg?”
“More dead ends. I can’t find anyone named Lola Winters staying in the area. I can go national, but can you give me some kind of direction? Maybe a favorite spot?”
Beau had nothing. He could probably rule out Las Vegas since she’d been there. Apparently, that was how well he knew the woman he’d fallen in love with. “Motels?” Beau asked.
“Nope.”
“Airports? Car rentals? Fucking train stations?”
Bragg was silent.
“Damn it,” Beau said.
“There’s one thing I haven’t tried. Hospital and jail records.”
Beau looked down at the table. For a shameful moment, he preferred that to the alternative. In jail, in a hospital, she would need him. There’d be no pretense. He could handle those situations better than anyone he knew, whether it was getting her the best care or paying off whomever he needed to if she were in trouble. Anything was better than not knowing why. Or where. Or if. If she’d really left on purpose, or if this was all some big misunderstanding.
“Search them,” Beau said. “Every few hours until we know more.”
He hung up as Dina set an oversized dish of French toast in front of him. It must’ve been a joke. Lola had to be watching from the kitchen, laughing at him in her carefree way. Like the time she’d thrown her body into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“…come have breakfast in bed with me,” she said.
“If you insist, though I don’t really see the point.”
“There’s no point. This isn’t a negotiation or a board meeting where there needs to be an explanation for everything. There’s absolutely no fucking point at all, and that is the point.”
Beau understood that conversation better now, after having spent more time with her. He was the one who’d set parameters around his life, and he was the one who could tear them down. Breakfast for dinner. Eating where he slept. They were childish things, but they weren’t illegal—he’d gawked at her as if they were.
“Come on. Eat up,” Dina said. “It was Lola’s favorite. Mine too.”
Beau took a reluctant, painful, memory-filled bite. His mouthful of syrup tasted like Lola.
“Can I get you anything else?” Dina asked.
Beau needed her to keep talking so he could survive that French toast. For the first time in two days, he didn’t feel an ounce of anger. “Did she grow up near here?”
Dina glanced around the diner. Her other customer had his eyes glued to the overhead TV set. “Five or so minutes away,” she said. “How’d you say you know her?”
Beau wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. “I guess you could say we worked together once.”
“Oh.” Her mom nodded high, keeping her eyes on Beau. “I see. Well, Lola only worked at two places in her life, so I got a pretty good idea what you’re getting at.”
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Beau didn’t look away, though he wanted to. When had he ever faced the family of someone he’d screwed over? Beyond Johnny, he’d never considered how hurting Lola might extend to those who loved her.
“Hang on,” Dina said. “There was that 7-Eleven she worked at for a while as a cover up for what she was really doing. She must’ve thought I was dumb to believe money like that came from selling bubblegum and cigarettes.” Her smile fell. “Completely slipped my mind. But no, I’m not about to believe that’s where you know her from.”
Beau smiled thinly. “It’s not.” Walking into a 7-Eleven years ago and coming face to face with a young Lola might’ve changed his life. Before his money, he’d been like any other boy trying to get a girl’s attention. For the most part, he was too distracted by work to care, but he couldn’t imagine walking away from Lola back then, before he’d ever tasted power—or rejection.
“She never worked here?” he asked.
“This place? You mean the diner with quicksand floors?” She laughed at her joke. “People get stuck here. Mario in the kitchen came in to use the restroom twenty years ago. I didn’t want that for her. She can do better than her old lady.”
“Lola’s very smart,” Beau agreed.
“Pity she got stuck on the Strip,” she said.
“At Cat Shoppe, you mean?”
Dina eyed him. “No. I’m talking about Hey Joe, where I said she works now. Not that I did any better for myself, but I wanted her to become something. She was a proud little girl, though.”
“Pride’s not always a bad thing.”
“You don’t watch out, pride’ll get you. Lola didn’t want nobody telling her what to do, especially me. Thought she knew better. She had a fighting spirit. Too much. Then she hooked up with Johnny, and he calmed her down lots, but while she’s with him, she won’t go much of anywhere.” Dina was barely looking at him anymore. “Johnny’s a good man, but sometimes I wonder where she’d be now if she hadn’t met him. Maybe this whole side of town’s quicksand.”
A hint of thickness in her voice made Beau wonder if she missed her daughter. “Why don’t you two speak?”
Dina shook her head slowly and looked up at the ceiling a moment. “I wasn’t a good mom. I know that. She knew it too since she was little. Like you said—she’s smart. Smarter than anyone in my family.”
Beau’d heard enough of Lola’s childhood to know Dina could’ve done better. The fact that she kept Lola out of the diner said something, though. She saw the same potential in Lola Beau had. “I’m sure you weren’t as bad as you think.”