Annie handed Jax his over-full coffee, trying not to spill it all over both of them. After almost fifteen years of waitressing, her hands were practically made of dragon hide, but burns from hot water still smarted.
“Thanks,” he said, and gingerly took a sip. It was atrocious, as always.
“I want to talk to you about Dave,” Annie said.
Jax leaned back against the wall. He’d spent quite a lot of time thinking about Dave, and he’d been in close contact with a few local cops he knew well. They were keeping him in the loop about the hunt for Dave, but so far, the piece of s**t had apparently fallen off the planet. Jax was sure that Daddy had the little f**k safely hidden away in a golf buddy’s country estate in France, or some beach house in Aruba.
“OK,” he said calmly. “What about the fuc
