You have me now, McClane whispered, and caressed Riley’s cheek with a feathery touch just under the skin. I’ll guard all of you, not only your back.

“Yeah,” Riley sighed. He picked up the menu and looked at it without seeing it. He had McClane. At least until a better host came along.

The little girl who’d stared at him through the window turned in her seat and waved at him again. Her mother was less indulgent this time; she told her to stop stalling and finish her pancakes. The kid slid down out of sight with a grouchy whine. Well, at least Riley wasn’t the only one who was having a bitch of a morning.

The waitress was a pretty, plump woman in a uniform as faded as the rest of the diner. She kind of looked like a Dotty, but her nametag read Maureen. She was probably resigned to the inevitable jokes. Maureen poured him a cup of coffee with a smile and didn’t bother to write down Riley’s order. It wasn’t that original. Bacon and eggs, short stack, side of hash browns. “Ten minutes, hon,” she said. “Anything else I can bring you?”

Riley shook his head. “Nah, thank you.”

He sat staring out into the parking lot for a minute, shifting slightly until the butt of the gun stopped digging into his spine. His gaze traveled over the cars parked across the street, looking for he didn’t know what.

Recognition, maybe. Some car he’d noticed before. A black limousine with a license plate that read NY MAFIA. Misha’s lime-green Viper. Anything.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t notice shit. Nothing but the usual uninspiring assembly of SUVs, bland compacts, dust-covered pickups, and a banged-up little Toyota that stuck out like a sore thumb. It had a bobble head stuck to the dashboard. He thought he would’ve remembered that at least if it had followed him from the motel.

Playing “spot the hit man” got boring pretty soon, so Riley turned his attention to the other customers to engage in some good, old-fashioned people watching. Not that there was a lot to watch. It was too late for a big breakfast crowd, but there were enough stragglers to make Riley think the place either served decent food or excellent coffee. He lifted his cup with rising hope and took a sip. The brew was strong and bitter with a pervasive aroma of burnt coffee beans. The food had better be amazing.