The first time she met Keith, she came this close to killing him.
“I left you a tip,” he told her. “But you’ve gotta figure it out.”
She’d been covering for Carol, one of those rare serving shifts. Keith, as a customer, was hell – he kept ordering things and then changing them, sending things back. He left a folded newspaper, open to the crossword.
She almost threw it out, until she saw all the wrong answers. Even when she broke the code, it didn’t make sense, but at the end of the night, she found a fifty in her pocket.