The Wanderer Read Online Free PDF

pleasure boats still tied up and one big cabin cruiser. There was a restaurant—Cliffhanger’s, which also advertised a bar—at the far end of the marina, far enough up the hill to avoid high tides and flooding.
    He went back to the main street and drove west, out onto the point. There were houses out there, as well. On the end of the promontory was a very large home with a gated driveway. Whoever owned that house got the best view imaginable, as the point was a high, rocky cliff. From Ben’s deck he had noticed a small lighthouse, somewhere below this mansion.
    It wasn’t exactly a cute little town, but there were some nice touches, like big pots of flowers in front of some businesses, old-fashioned lampposts, benches here and there along wide sidewalks.
    He reasoned the best places to perch for local news would be one of the bars or the local diner. Cliffhanger’s wasn’t open yet. Waylan’s probably was, but he wasn’t in the mood for a seedy bar. He went to the diner and sat at the counter. It was either designed to be retro or it was fifty years old. By the cracks in the linoleum floor, he guessed it was all about age. The waitress was there in a flash, with a coffeepot in her hand. Her blond hair was in a ponytail and she wore a black-and-white-checkered blouse. Her name tag said Gina.
    “Good morning, Gina,” he said.
    She filled his cup. “And good morning, strange man. Hungry?”
    “As a matter of fact, I am. What have you got for eggs?” Cooper asked.
    She put down the coffeepot and leaned both hands on the counter. With a wide smile, she said, “It’s the darnedest thing, we have eggs for eggs.”
    He couldn’t suppress a grin. “Mess up a couple for me. Toast, too, and...you have sausage for sausage?”
    “Link or patty?”
    “Patty,” he said.
    “Whole wheat or whole wheat?”
    “Why don’t I live recklessly? Whole wheat.”
    “Good choice. It’s better for you. Now drink that coffee slow so I don’t have to keep coming back here.”
    “Could I have some ice water?” He looked around. The small diner was empty of customers. “If it’s not too much trouble?”
    “It’s extra,” she said. She turned and slapped the ticket on the cook’s counter.
    “I can afford it,” he said. “But it might cut into your tip.”
    She fixed up an ice water and placed it before him. “If it’s going to cut into my tip, I won’t charge you for it. You think I work here for the wages?” She gave the counter a wipe. “I know you’re not just passing through—there’s only two ways into this town, and both are inconvenient.”
    “Two ways?” he asked, confident she was going to tell him about Gibbons to Bailey’s, down the hill, or Indigo Sea Drive, right through the heart of town.
    “By land or by sea,” she said. “We are en route to nowhere.”
    “I am, though. Passing through. Ben Bailey was a friend of mine and I just heard—”
    She got a stricken look on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry! Man, we miss Ben around here.”
    “That’s why I’m hanging around—to meet some of his friends. Ben and I met in the Army, a long time ago. We stayed in touch, but I’ve never been up here before.”
    “Ben was such a nice guy—the last person I could imagine losing.”
    “Who were his closest friends?” Cooper asked.
    “Oh, hell, no one and everyone,” she said with a shrug. “Ben kind of watched over the whole town, but I don’t know of any one or two people he was best friends with.”
    The door opened and Mac came in. He wasn’t in uniform this morning and looked just as comfortable in jeans, boots, plaid shirt and jacket.
    “This is the guy you should probably ask,” Gina said. “Hey, Mac.”
    He pulled off his cap and sat next to Cooper at the counter. “Ask me what?”
    “This guy was a friend of Ben’s—”
    “We’ve met,” Mac said, sticking out a hand. “How’s it going, Mr. Cooper?”
    Cooper laughed. “Every time you call me Mr. Cooper, I wonder if my father