Kings of Midnight Read Online Free

Ten tables with checkered tablecloths, the front windows fogged, the neon CAFE MILAN sign dark now. Rick, the manager, was at a table, sorting register receipts. The other tables were empty. The night had been slow, and Rick had let Pablo, the busboy, and Lila, the waitress, go home early.
    Rick looked up from the receipts. “Sorry, fellas. We’re closed. I was just about to lock the door.”
    The men looked around, didn’t speak.
    Benny was forearm-deep in hot soapy water. He dried his hands on a dish towel, got his glasses from the counter. The lenses were steamed. He wiped them clear with an edge of apron, worked the wire frames over his ears.
    One of the men was in his sixties, wearing an expensive overcoat, his thick silver hair swept up and back. It took Benny a moment to realize he was looking at Danny Taliferro, older now, thinner. Under the coat, he wore a roll-top sweater that covered his throat. Still vain about that scar after all these years, Benny thought.
    The other man was younger, late twenties, thigh-length leather jacket, close-cut dark hair. Benny didn’t know him, just the type.
    Rick stood, the kid trying to be polite. “Sorry, but the kitchen’s shut down, and the grill’s cold. Couldn’t make you anything if we wanted to.”
    Taliferro looked past him. Benny backed away, kept an angle on the door.
    â€œThere’s a twenty-four-hour Denny’s out by the highway,” Rick said. “Just a couple miles away. I can tell you how to get there. Probably the only place open this time of night.”
    Taliferro turned to the other man. “What did I tell you? Bumfuck, USA.” Then to Rick, “We’re not here to eat.” An edge of hoarseness in the voice, unmistakable. Danny Taliferro for sure.
    So this was it, after all this time. Benny looked around. There was a cleaver hanging above the cutting board. He set it on the counter, covered it with the dish towel. Almost immediately, he felt foolish. What was he going to do, go out there swinging?
    â€œWe’re looking for Benny Roth,” Taliferro said. “He works here, right?”
    â€œWho?” Confusion in Rick’s voice. Benny stayed where he was, listening.
    â€œBenny Roth,” Taliferro said. “But maybe he calls himself something else now, right? I guess he would.”
    The kid squared his shoulders. “I don’t know what you two fellas want. But there’s no Benny here. And I’d appreciate it if you all would leave now. We’re closed for the night.”
    Benny suddenly felt guilty. The kid was going to get himself hurt over something he didn’t understand.
    Benny took a last glance at the dish towel, then pushed open the kitchen door. The three turned to look at him. Taliferro smiled.
    â€œBenny,” he said. “Long time.”
    Rick looked from Benny back to the men. “Leonard, you know these guys?”
    Taliferro laughed. “Leonard?”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Benny said. “Yeah, I know them.” He took off his apron, bundled it. “We’re good in there. I did the last of the pots, loaded the washer. It just needs to be turned on.”
    â€œWhat’s all this ‘Benny’ stuff?” Rick said.
    â€œWhat?” Taliferro said. “You didn’t know you had a celebrity working for you?”
    Benny set the apron on a table. “How you doing, Danny?”
    Taliferro nodded, looked him over. “Day at a time, like everybody. What’s it been? Twenty-five years?”
    â€œLonger,” Benny said.
    â€œYou got old.”
    â€œWe all did.”
    â€œWhat’s all this about?” Rick said.
    Benny touched his arm. “It’s all right.” Then to Taliferro, “How about we talk outside? Let this man finish closing his restaurant.”
    Taliferro swept an arm toward the door. “After you.”
    â€œLeonard…” Rick said.
    â€œIt’s