they'd seen him lately. As Claire pulled the Softail to a gentle stop in front of Emmy's, she noticed a couple of rats scurrying for cover from atop a garbage can on the sidewalk. She put down the stand and unstraddled the bike, taking off her helmet and setting it on the warm seat. Shaking out her ponytail, she wrinkled her nose in disgust; from the smell of things, the trash had been sitting out for quite a while. Whatever they were throwing away gave off a seriously toxic stink. Before going in, she chafed her bare legs and arms lightly, as much to warm them as to wipe off the top layer of road grime. Shorts and a vest were no match for the October night, and it reminded her once again of how dumb she'd been to ride bare. Chris would give her one hell of a lecture... but not here.
The building's glass front gave her a clear look at the well-lit, homey restaurant, from the bolted red stools at the lunch counter to the padded booths lining the walls and there wasn't a soul in sight. Claire frowned, her initial disappointment giving way to confusion. Having visited Chris pretty regularly over the last few years, she'd been to the diner at all hours of the day and night; they were both night owls, often deciding to go out for cheeseburgers at three in the morning - which meant Emmy's every time. And there was always someone at Emmy's, chatting with one of the pink polyester-clad waitresses or hunched over a cup of coffee with a newspaper, no matter what time it was.
So where are they? It's not even nine o'clock...
The sign said Open, and she wasn't going to find out standing in the street. With a last glance at her bike, she opened the door and stepped inside. Taking a deep breath, she called out hopefully.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
Her voice seemed somehow flat in the muted silence of the empty restaurant; except for the soft hum of the ceiling fans overhead, there wasn't a sound. There was the familiar smell of stale grease in the air, but something else, too - a scent that was bitter and yet soft, like rotting flowers. The restaurant was L-shaped, booths stretching off in front of her and to the left. Walking slowly, Claire headed straight; at the end of the lunch counter was the wait station, and past that the kitchen; if Emmy's was open, the staff would probably be hanging out there, maybe as surprised as she was that there were no customers... except that wouldn't explain the mess, would it?
It wasn't a mess, exactly; the disorder was subtle enough that she hadn't even noticed it from outside. A few menus on the floor, an overturned water glass on the counter, and a couple of randomly strewn pieces of silverware were the only signs of something amiss, but they were enough.
To hell with checking out the kitchen, this is too weird, something is seriously fucked up in this city or maybe they got robbed, or maybe they're setting up for a surprise party. Who cares? Time for you to be elsewhere.
From the hidden space at the end of the counter, she heard a gentle sound of movement, a sliding whisper of cloth followed by a muffled grunt. Some- body was there, ducked down. Heart thumping loudly, Claire called out again.
"Hello?"
For a beat, there was nothing - and then another grunt, a muted moan that raised the hair on the back of her neck. In spite of her misgivings, Claire hurried toward the back, suddenly feeling childish for her desire to leave; maybe there had been a robbery, maybe the custom- ers had been tied up and gagged - or even worse, so badly injured that they couldn't cry out. Like it or not, she was involved. Claire reached the end of the counter, pivoted left... and froze, eyes wide, feeling as though she'd been physically slapped. Next to a cart loaded with trays was a balding man dressed in cook's whites, his back to her. He was crouched over the body of a waitress; but there was something very wrong about her, so wrong that Claire's mind couldn't quite accept it at first. Her shocked gaze took in the pink uniform, the walking shoes, even the plastic name tag still pinned to the woman's chest, what looked like "Julie" or "Julia."...... her head. Her head is missing.
Once Claire realized what