Disciple: A haunting supernatural thriller (Gothic Horror Book 2) by A.G. Mock

Author:A.G. Mock [Mock, A.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Epoch Thrillers
Published: 2022-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

3:18

INTENSELY FOCUSED ON the grainy picture of one of the old Zenith TVs mounted over the counter, Diane washed down her breakfast burrito with another sip of coffee. She shook her head without speaking when the waitress asked if she would like anything else before they closed up shop. Normally open from early morning ‘til late, today the diner would be closing by lunchtime so they too could participate in the Fourth of July fun.

“Oh, wait,” Diane interjected as the waitress began to turn away. “I’ll take another Bloody Mary . . . . Oh! And some Pie! I’d like your lemon meringue pie. Please.”

“Whole? Or just a slice, cariño?”

Diane smiled, the girl’s natural charm endearing. While she’d never met Felipe’s daughter before, Diane had heard about her more than once. In hindsight, she realized, it had been a lost opportunity as she had a feeling they could have been great friends.

It was too late for all of that now.

“As much as I’d love to take a whole one, I hafta hit the road after this and I’d have no way of taking it with me. So, just a slice please—” she leaned forward, acting as if she were squinting to see the girl’s name tag, already fully aware that her name was “—Lucia. Oh, and would you mind turning that up for me? Please?”

Lucia Menendez snagged the brick of a remote from under the bar and clicked it at the TV. Nothing happened. It took a brisk tap against the Formica countertop for the volume level to appear on the screen, just in time for New Day, USA! to go to commercial break.

“You know, my family knows these people,” revealed Lucia, still gazing at the screen. “Well, sort of. I mean, I don’t actually know them. But that guy they just showed . . . the father? His name is Ian and he used to work with my dad. In fact, they were really good friends at one point. Can you believe that?”

“Oh? Wow!” Diane feigned surprised, her voice louder and rather more dramatic than she wanted. “Yeah. No, that’s crazy.”

“Right? They used to hang out here. This place was their local.”

“Local, as in, bar? You mean that kind of local?” Of course, Diane knew full well that she was having the first breakfast of her newfound freedom in the place where everything had started, so long ago, in the days before innocence had died.

Back then the worst thing that could happen in your life was your adopted brother ripping up your gaudy, oversized Valentine from Handsome Robbie Hanson.

Not your uncle blowing your father’s brains out in the woods.

Lucia nodded as she grabbed a pie from the chill case. “Yeah. Used to be called The Major League. Another friend of theirs, a guy called Tony Lamont, owned it. Like, forever. One of those old school bars that aren’t really around much anymore. But I bet you can probably tell—my dad hasn’t done a whole lot to modernize it. I mean, just look.

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