Almost before Adam knew it, the clock said nine-thirty. He took the coffeepot over to where Frank Carter sat reading the local newspaper. The old man ate his breakfast every day at Vic’s. Had for years, even before Adam took it over. Every day he had two eggs, scrambled, one sausage link, and half of an English muffin. He suspected Frank would be none too pleased to hear him talk of changing the restaurant.
“Anything interesting in there, Frank?” Adam asked, refilling his cup with the decaf.
“Nope.” Frank didn’t even look up from the paper.
The bell tingled over the door and Adam turned to see who his next customer was.
The man hovering in the doorway looked very familiar. Adam frowned, trying to place him.
The guy appeared to be around thirty and was about an inch or two over six fee
