"What a dump." I rubbed gum off the bottom of my shoe, standing in the doorway to the empty back room in the run-down diner that Elliot had sworn was the only place he'd ever met up with Aida.

As we stepped into the main part of the restaurant, my stomach lurched at the smell of rancid frying oil. Two guys in blue mechanic's overalls sat in one of the booths, but the rest of the ten tables were unoccupied. Faded B-movie posters hung on beige walls in need of repainting. ...