Angels Mark (The Serena Wilcox Mysteries Dystopian Thriller Trilogy) by Natalie Buske Thomas

The forty-five mile road trip was comfortable, even though the skies weren’t any cheerier than they’d been earlier in the day.
    About half an hour into the trip, Tom interrupted Serena’s passenger-side conversation with him mid-sentence. “I think we’re being followed.”
    “What? What do you mean?”
    “I know you haven’t been Serena Wilcox, private detective, for over a decade, but haven’t you noticed?” Tom glanced at the rearview mirror.
    “No? You really think someone is following us?”
    “Yeah. He was on our road. I figured he’d be turning off eventually, but he’s still with us and we’re already in Apple Valley.”
    “What are the odds someone would be on our road and still behind us? You must be right. Maybe someone saw us on those YouTube videos and recognized us. I knew we shouldn’t have put those up there.” Serena looked in the side-view mirror, wondering which car was tailing them.
    “Why would anyone care about us?”
    “I don’t know. Following up on the arson? Which car is following us? The SUV right behind us?”
    “No, he’s three cars back now. I don’t think it’s about the arson. Could be someone we know?”
    “Here in Minnesota? I don’t think so. Everyone we’ve met here knows us as the Meadows. Besides, why would they follow us all the way to Apple Valley without signaling to us in some way?”
    “What do you want me to do?”
    The kids by now had taken interest in what their parents were talking about and all three were eavesdropping. Serena turned around in her seat to face them. “It’ll be okay, don’t worry.” She looked at Tom and said, “Pull over in the next populated parking lot you see, pick a restaurant.”
    Tom came up on a restaurant quickly, as they were in the heart of Apple Valley. He parked the van in the first parking spot available. “What now?”
    “Just wait. He’ll come to the van.”
    A “gecko green” metallic VW beetle pulled into the parking lot and parked one space over.
    “Is that him?”
    “Yes.”
    “How could I have missed that ?” Serena laughed.
    “Because you’re you.”
    The driver of the VW unfolded himself from the tiny car quickly and easily, with the agility of a teenager. He strode purposely over to the mini-van.
    “But I never forget a face. I know that guy,” Serena said quietly.
    The young man approached the driver’s side of the van and stood patiently waiting for Tom to open the window. Tom glanced at Serena.
    “I’ll explain later, go ahead and open the window,” she said.
    Tom pressed the button to let down the driver’s side window, the only window control that was still operational on the mini-van. He looked expectantly at the blonde twenty-something man who was smiling at him.
    “Hey, Tom, isn’t it?” he began.
    “I’m sorry, you are?”
    “Otto. You probably noticed me following you back there.”
    “Yes. Your car stands out.”
    Otto grinned wider, looking like he’d been crowned Homecoming King. “Can we talk? Want to go in?” He nodded toward the Broadway Pizza entrance.
    Tom looked at Serena, who nodded. “Sure,” he said.
    Otto didn’t wait, but headed straight for the door. Tom closed the window and said, “How do you know him? Who is he?”
    “Well, he’s not Otto. He’s Bryce. Or maybe he was lying the first time around. Or maybe he’s not Bryce or Otto.”
    “You’re sure you’ve seen this guy before?”
    “Yes, sure. He was my server at the restaurant the night I was driving back from the fire. So maybe this is about the arson. Should we just go? Keep on driving and not come back?”
    “No, let’s hear what he has to say. He can find us again if we run.”
    “He doesn’t look like somebody to be afraid of. We better go in, he’ll wonder what’s taking us so long.”
    The Bridge-Meadows family joined Bryce-Otto in the empty reception area of Broadway Pizza. After a few pleasantries were exchanged with the hostess, the group was seated. Serena initiated