Chapter 867 Chapter 867
Foster flipped a few pages of the textbook and pretended he was studying the words on the page. He’d been sitting here listening to the table of older men since breakfast. None of them even mentioned the name Orson. There was a Charlie, Pete, Wilson, and Cecil, but no Orson. None of them mentioned Waylon Kamble, either.
He looked around. There were half a dozen others scattered around the tables, but none of them would fit into the category of someone named Orson.
Tapping his pen on the page of the notebook, he glanced at his phone.
“Maybe some fresh air will help.”
He looked to see Ena a few feet away with a coffee pot in her hand.
She smiled. “You look like you’re struggling. Sometimes, a little fresh air helps to sort out thoughts.”
He sighed. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Do you want more coffee, or is it time for juice?”
Foster looked at the time. “Juice, please.”
She nodded and reached over, picking up his used cup. He loved the perfume she wore. Usually, fragrances were not welcome because his animal didn’t like not being able to scent around them, but whatever it was she had on had a familiar note to it. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t spent time trying to figure out what that was.
“I’m going on break, but I’ll bring your juice over first.”
“Thank you.” He needed to start tipping her more. “Is it okay if I just leave my stuff here while I take your advice and grab some air?”
She looked at the books on the table. “I wouldn’t worry much about anyone here taking them, “ she grinned. “Not many in here would know what those books are talking about.”
“Great.” Foster got up and looked at them. He didn’t know what they were talking about either. He’d picked a topic at the bookstore, bought the biggest books they had, and sat here coping paragraphs like he was writing something brilliant. What did he care about the pH level of soil and the composition of solids and voids? He didn’t, but as far as he was concerned, he was playing the part well.
Stepping outside, he zipped up his coat and then pulled his phone out and checked it. He didn’t know why he kept looking at it. He wasn’t expecting anyone to call him with any more information. He put it in his pocket and went over to the van. Sitting inside waiting for someone to show up was way more boring than endless driving. At least when he had been on the road for weeks at a time, the scenery had changed.
His coyote alerted him. Foster looked around and saw no one. He trusted his animal when they were outside, he was never wrong about another shifter being nearby. Inside, there were too many scents, especially someplace like a diner.
He turned and looked around again. Ena was perched on a bench, drinking something that was steaming from the cup. Walking to the other side of the van so no one from the diner could see him, he looked at the back corner of the building. A large man with golden hair stood there. He had a very ‘don’t get in my space’ vibe. He looked like one of the international guys of Taggart’s, but Foster had only seen a few of them briefly at the factory.
Checking that Ena wasn’t paying attention to him, he went toward him. His coyote was on full alert now.
“You are the Foster who waits?”
Foster nodded.
“I am Kevan Salem.” He bowed his head to him.
“Did Zain send you here to help me find the guy or place?”
Kevan shook his head. “No. Taggart’s Deva tell Taggart she worry that one you wait for is no here. He send me so his Deva no worry.”
Foster exhaled. “Company is good. It beats sitting there alone for hours.”
Kevan grinned. “I no company. I can no mash with others in small town. My speak is too different, so I stay out of the eyes of others.”
Foster processed what he said. They really needed to add English 101 to the training groups. “Oh. Your accent makes it hard for you to blend in with small communities.”
Kevan nodded. “This is what I say, no?”
Foster shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Do you has room you stay at night?”
Foster nodded. “Yeah. It’s just off the interstate. There’s only one that way—” He pointed. “—room nine.” He dug in his coat pocket. “Do you want the key?” Pulling it out, he offered it to him.
Kevan took it. “Is better than breaking door down. I go sleep. I be travels long time now.” He put the key in his pocket. “I send you my number. Call if you have need for Kevan.”
Foster nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back around…”
“Are you talking to yourself?”
He spun around to see Ena standing at the front corner, smiling at him.
“Uh–” He glanced to see Kevan was gone. “Yeah.” He tapped his finger against the side of his head. “Trying to get my brain to focus.”
She smiled. “Maybe it needs a break. You have been working hard.” She glanced behind her.
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked again and saw no trace of the large man. “So, how long have you worked here?”
She sighed and looked over her shoulder.
It was the second time she had, and he wondered if she was waiting for someone or just nervous. He stepped closer to see if his animal could sense if anything were wrong.
“About a month now.” She shrugged. “A friend helped me get the job.”
“You’re good at it.” He tucked his hands in his coat pockets. “I would not be able to keep the orders straight.” He smiled. “Sometimes you look like you’re doing ten things at the same time.”
Her smile was genuine. “It feels that way at times.” She glanced over her shoulder again.
“Are you waiting for someone?” His animal was antsy, confirming there was something up with her. He really couldn’t get distracted by local drama, but he was also killing time until this Orson man showed up, or Cy got here because he knew what he was doing more than Foster did.
She sighed again. “Just a few of the regulars haven’t been in for a few days, so I worry.” She shrugged, but the expression in her eyes told him she wasn’t as nonchalant about them being absent as she was letting on. “You know, this time of year, with all the viruses going around, you worry about the older ones in your community.”
He nodded. What she was saying was true, about viruses and one-forms getting sick, but he wasn’t buying that was why she was looking over her shoulder so much. “Maybe you could check on them after work.”
“I might just do that.” She looked around. “Well, I’m going to go in and have a bite before the lunch rush starts.”
Foster smiled. “I hear it’s stew today.” He patted his stomach. “Looking forward to that.”
She laughed. “If I ate as much as you do, I’d be as wide as I am tall.” She smiled at him again and then turned and left.
Foster’s animal prodded him to go after her. He shook his head. He agreed there was something up with her, but he wasn’t going to start following her around. If he had any sort of luck, one of those she was waiting on was Orson. Older shifters did get sick, although if it was the man he was waiting for, he was breaking all sorts of Alliance conditions. It had been over a year since all clans were to stop associating with one-forms on a regular basis. It was just too dangerous.
He started walking around to the front of the diner. Was Orson even a shifter? He had to be, right? Or how else was he contacting the Alliance? Maybe Waylon Kamble had gotten his hands on Orson; that was a feasible thought. Although, it wasn’t unheard of that one-forms were part of shifters lives. Blair’s mate’s brother had a one-form friend. He glanced around. Fischer was now working with the Alliance to find a property and help require abandoned clan lands. Shaking his head, he walked by the window and glanced in to see Ena sitting at the counter eating. Even though she was pretty and smelled good, he didn’t have time to get involved with some local girl.