Absolute Certainty by Me

Author:Me [Me]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 32

Harry pulls into the first truck stop we see after leaving Bridgewater State Hospital. “Lunch,” he announces, and winks at me as he grabs his briefcase from the backseat.

Food doesn’t interest me at the moment, but Harry’s explanation for his questioning does. I follow him across the large parking lot. It’s so hot here that the blacktop is melting, and it sticks to the bottoms of my shoes. I see it clinging to the bottoms of Harry’s shoes too, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Geraldine will undoubtedly bring it to his attention next time she sees him.

It’s obvious that Harry has been here before. He maneuvers his way around the gas pumps and the eighteen-wheelers and heads straight toward the neonEAT sign over the front door. He holds it open for me, and bows as if he is the maitre d’, though I doubt that this particular establishment has one. At least it’s air-conditioned.

The place is a genuine, old-fashioned diner, complete with a jukebox in every booth. A hand-printed sign at the entrance tells us to seat ourselves. Harry chooses a booth at the far end of the room, a good distance from the other patrons. I slide onto a red vinyl bench across the table from him and wait while he reads the daily specials with an urgency that suggests he hasn’t eaten for a week.

He’s a good man, Harry Madigan. The depth of his compassion for Eddie Malone is admirable; compassion is a tough trait to hang on to in this business. I’ve grown fond of Harry in a way I never expected. It must be the rumpled suits.

Two young men seated on the other side of the room have a pile of quarters in the middle of their table. They feed the hungry jukebox at regular intervals, and the woeful lyrics of jilted cowboys fill the diner. I can’t help but think of what Sally Scott said about her son and country lyrics. If Michael Scott were here, I guess he would secretly sing along.

Harry pushes the paper placemats and silverware to the far end of the table and opens his briefcase in the middle. A large waitress with orange hair tied up in a bun appears at our table with a coffee pot. She turns our mugs over and pours, casting a disapproving frown at the piled silverware and crumpled placemats.

“He did it,” I tell her, pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

Harry stares at me in mock dismay, then smiles sheepishly at the orange-haired waitress. “It’s temporary, I promise. I’ll have it all fixed up before the food comes.”

The waitress all but melts in the warmth of his smile. She takes our orders and wags her finger at Harry before she leaves, as if he were her favorite nephew who’d just been a little bit naughty. Harry is a pro. I can’t help laughing at him.

As soon as the waitress leaves us, Harry takes three documents from his briefcase, closes it, and slides it under the table.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.