Read Online The Green Children: A Sycamore Moon Novel (Sycamore Moon Series Book 3) by Domino Finn - Free Book Online
Authors: Domino Finn
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from. The biker decided to follow him on foot.
Jason Bower was obviously concerned about being seen, so Diego kept a good distance between them. The man turned the corner without looking back. When the biker arrived at the cross street, he spotted Jason further down the block, past the small strip mall. Diego continued through an empty lot until he saw where the man was headed: a tattered husk of a building with an unlit cocktails sign. A dive bar.
Knowing Jason might take another quick look around before entering, Diego ducked behind a bus stop advertisement. Next time he checked, Jason was gone.
The man hadn't been home all morning. Something had happened at the campsite that caused him to leave in a hurry, but he obviously didn't have anywhere to go. While trying to avoid his home, the best he came up with was a local bar down the block.
Jason was certainly being evasive. He had something to hide, no doubt. The fact that he'd been in Hazel's vicinity before she vanished gave Diego confidence he was onto something.
As the biker approached the entryway, he imagined what could be within. It was unlikely Hazel was inside—while the bar was probably empty this early in the afternoon, an eight-year-old would readily stand out. That meant the girl would be at another location.
If Jason didn't have her, who did?
Diego realized he didn't know where Jason's car was. His driveway was empty, likely to convince anyone interested that he was out of town. The biker wondered if Jason was stupid enough to park in the bar's corner lot. Diego passed the building and checked. There were only two vehicles, a pickup truck and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Both were clearly empty.
To the bar, then.
Diego stepped inside. A large Samoan man frowned at him. Defensive line, thought Diego. Maybe made it to college, maybe didn't, but he had to have been a hell of a high school player. Now all his frame was good for was intimidation, and it worked on Diego.
The biker pressed passed the obstacle. The bartender squinted against the sunlight that invaded his lair. He was an older man with a brittle demeanor. Surprisingly, the small space had several patrons: two tables' worth and a few at the bar, all men of course.
Jason Bower was at the bar alone.
The man picked himself up and headed into the back hallway, leaving his shopping bag and a backpack on the floor. Jason didn't look his way. It was perfect. Diego went for the back.
"The bathroom's fer payin' customers," said the bartender in a voice that held more weight than he did.
"That's fine," answered Diego, barely slowing his stride.
"What'll you have then?" he barked.
Diego stopped when he realized the bouncer had taken notice. He pulled a couple of bucks from his wallet and slapped them on the counter. "Get me a root beer with a straw." Then he continued into the back.
The hallway made the dingy bar area feel like a hospital. It was darker, dirtier, and smelled like a sewer. Diego held his breath and pushed open the door to the men's room. It was a single, tiny stall. Diego didn't even think there was enough square footage to accommodate the Samoan. A dirty urinal was tucked beside an even dirtier sink, and the toilet was empty save for being covered in piss.
Diego skipped out and went to the women's room next. It was locked. Diego checked up and down the hall and didn't see anywhere else to go besides the emergency exit, which a sign warned would alarm on opening. The biker pounded on the bathroom door.
"Occupied," grumbled a man.
"Open up," commanded Diego, banging harder.
The door swung inward to reveal an angry, bald man missing half his ear. Behind him, a trashy woman with torn stockings sat on the toilet seat. She didn't even bother looking up. Instead her attention was fixed on the line of coke on the sink.
"What the fuck?" demanded the man.
Diego just put his arms up and backed away.
The exit. Jason Bower had used the exit.
Diego bounded through the exterior door. No
Jason Bower was obviously concerned about being seen, so Diego kept a good distance between them. The man turned the corner without looking back. When the biker arrived at the cross street, he spotted Jason further down the block, past the small strip mall. Diego continued through an empty lot until he saw where the man was headed: a tattered husk of a building with an unlit cocktails sign. A dive bar.
Knowing Jason might take another quick look around before entering, Diego ducked behind a bus stop advertisement. Next time he checked, Jason was gone.
The man hadn't been home all morning. Something had happened at the campsite that caused him to leave in a hurry, but he obviously didn't have anywhere to go. While trying to avoid his home, the best he came up with was a local bar down the block.
Jason was certainly being evasive. He had something to hide, no doubt. The fact that he'd been in Hazel's vicinity before she vanished gave Diego confidence he was onto something.
As the biker approached the entryway, he imagined what could be within. It was unlikely Hazel was inside—while the bar was probably empty this early in the afternoon, an eight-year-old would readily stand out. That meant the girl would be at another location.
If Jason didn't have her, who did?
Diego realized he didn't know where Jason's car was. His driveway was empty, likely to convince anyone interested that he was out of town. The biker wondered if Jason was stupid enough to park in the bar's corner lot. Diego passed the building and checked. There were only two vehicles, a pickup truck and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Both were clearly empty.
To the bar, then.
Diego stepped inside. A large Samoan man frowned at him. Defensive line, thought Diego. Maybe made it to college, maybe didn't, but he had to have been a hell of a high school player. Now all his frame was good for was intimidation, and it worked on Diego.
The biker pressed passed the obstacle. The bartender squinted against the sunlight that invaded his lair. He was an older man with a brittle demeanor. Surprisingly, the small space had several patrons: two tables' worth and a few at the bar, all men of course.
Jason Bower was at the bar alone.
The man picked himself up and headed into the back hallway, leaving his shopping bag and a backpack on the floor. Jason didn't look his way. It was perfect. Diego went for the back.
"The bathroom's fer payin' customers," said the bartender in a voice that held more weight than he did.
"That's fine," answered Diego, barely slowing his stride.
"What'll you have then?" he barked.
Diego stopped when he realized the bouncer had taken notice. He pulled a couple of bucks from his wallet and slapped them on the counter. "Get me a root beer with a straw." Then he continued into the back.
The hallway made the dingy bar area feel like a hospital. It was darker, dirtier, and smelled like a sewer. Diego held his breath and pushed open the door to the men's room. It was a single, tiny stall. Diego didn't even think there was enough square footage to accommodate the Samoan. A dirty urinal was tucked beside an even dirtier sink, and the toilet was empty save for being covered in piss.
Diego skipped out and went to the women's room next. It was locked. Diego checked up and down the hall and didn't see anywhere else to go besides the emergency exit, which a sign warned would alarm on opening. The biker pounded on the bathroom door.
"Occupied," grumbled a man.
"Open up," commanded Diego, banging harder.
The door swung inward to reveal an angry, bald man missing half his ear. Behind him, a trashy woman with torn stockings sat on the toilet seat. She didn't even bother looking up. Instead her attention was fixed on the line of coke on the sink.
"What the fuck?" demanded the man.
Diego just put his arms up and backed away.
The exit. Jason Bower had used the exit.
Diego bounded through the exterior door. No
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