Pines

Ethan.”
    “Beverly, as soon as I get my wallet and things tomorrow morning, I’m gonna come in here—”
    “Lemme guess...and lay a big tip on me.”
    Ethan shook his head. “Now you’re mocking me.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “If you don’t believe me, I’ll—”
    “I just met you,” she said. “By the time you’re finished with dinner, I’ll know whether or not I’ll ever see you again.”
    “Too early to say, huh?” He smiled, feeling like he might be winning her over.
    She brought him a menu, and he ordered potato wedges and a cheeseburger as rare as the health department would allow.
    When Beverly had disappeared into the kitchen with his order, he sipped his beer.
    Hmm. Something was off. It was flat, and aside from the faintest suggestion of bitterness in the finish, almost completely devoid of taste.
    He set the pint glass on the bar as Beverly returned.
    “I’m getting a free meal, so I’m hesitant to complain,” he said, “but something’s wrong with this beer.”
    “Really?” She gestured to the glass. “You mind?”
    “Go ahead.”
    She lifted the glass and took a sip, licked the foam off her upper lip as she set it back down.
    “Tastes fine to me.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah.”
    “No, it’s flat and...I don’t know...it’s just...it doesn’t have any taste.”
    “Weird. I don’t get that at all. You want to try a different beer?”
    “No, I probably shouldn’t be drinking anyway. I’ll just have a water.”
    She got him a fresh glass, squirted water over the ice.
    * * *
    He lifted a steaming-hot cheeseburger from his plate with both hands.
    Beverly was wiping down the other end of the bar when he called her over, the burger poised in front of his mouth.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “Nothing. Yet. Come here.”
    She came over, stood facing him.
    “My experience,” he said, “is that about eighty percent of the time, when I order a hamburger rare like I just did, I get one well done. I don’t know why most cooks are incapable of cooking a hamburger the right way, but there it is. And you know what I do when I get one overcooked?”
    “You send it back?” She didn’t look amused.
    “Exactly.”
    “You’re pretty goddamned difficult to please, you know that?”
    “I’m aware,” he said, and dove in.
    He chewed for a good ten seconds.
    “Well?” Beverly asked.
    Ethan set the burger back on his plate, swallowing as he wiped his hands on the linen napkin.
    He pointed at the burger. “That’s an amazing piece of work.”
    Beverly laughed and rolled her eyes.
    * * *
    By the time Ethan had finished the last crumb on his plate, he was the only customer left in the restaurant.
    The barkeep took his plate away and then came back to refill his water.
    “You gonna be all right tonight, Ethan? Got a place to stay?”
    “Yeah, I sweet-talked the desk clerk at the hotel into letting me have a room.”
    “She bought your bullshit story too, huh?” Beverly smirked.
    “Hook, line, and sinker.”
    “Well, since this is on me, can I offer you dessert? Our death-by-chocolate is out of this world.”
    “Thanks, but I should probably get going.”
    “What is it exactly that you’re doing here? In your official capacity, I mean. I understand if you can’t talk about it—”
    “It’s a missing person’s investigation.”
    “Who went missing?”
    “Two Secret Service agents.”
    “They disappeared
here
? In Wayward Pines?”
    “About a month ago, Agent Bill Evans and Agent Kate Hewson came here on a classified investigation. As of this evening, they haven’t been heard from in ten days. A total loss of contact. No e-mail. No phone calls. Even the GPS tracking chip in their company car went dark.”
    “And they sent you to find them?”
    “I used to work with Kate. We were partners when she lived in Seattle.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “
Just
partners?”
    He could feel a tremor of something—sadness, loss, rage—vibrating through him.
    But he hid it well.
    “Yeah, we were just partners. Friends too, though. Anyway, I’m here to pick up their trail. Find out what happened. Bring them home.”
    “You think something bad happened?”
    He didn’t answer, just stared at her, but it was an answer.
    “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Ethan.” Beverly pulled a check out of the front pocket on her apron and slid it across the bar.
    “So this is my damage, huh?”
    Ethan glanced down at the check. It wasn’t an