Page 12 of Backdraft
I stuffed the envelope in my bag and juggled the two cups as I raced out of the hotel.
I gulped some coffee as I walked, careful not to spill, and moaned in delight. Boy, I needed that boost. But what I really needed were some of those amazing pancakes I’d been told about at the diner run by a woman named Kali.
Biting the edge of the open coffee cup, I wrangled all my stuff so I could unlock and open the truck door.
Inside, I wolfed down the coffee while plugging the cafe address into my GPS.
I opened the second cup and drank it while I followed the GPS’s instructions. I barely noticed the drive over there and was shocked when I arrived. It was kind of freaky really, like I'd driven on autopilot. I didn't like using GPS for that reason, but I knew I'd get myself settled in after a few days.
The parking lot was full. I groaned, not really up to a crowd, but I saw one of the guys from the fire yesterday inside, so I knew there was a chance someone had spotted me, and they’d know I’d bailed on coming in.
I sat for a minute in the shady parking spot on the edge of the lot. The truck stuck out like a sore thumb, but I had no choice. My SUV, along with my minimal household items, were being shipped and should arrive in a couple of days.
Inside, I chose a seat in the corner with the window and let out a burst of air when I plopped down.
The waitress came to take my order.
"I hear you have great pancakes." I smiled up at her. She was young, and her hair was braided back from her head like the women on Vikings.
"So they say." She smiled back.
"Great, coffee with lots of cream, pancakes with a side of bacon please, oh, and extra butter."
She scribbled on the pad. "I'll be right back with your coffee."
"Thanks."
She walked away, and I scanned the cafe. The firefighter I’d recognized was leaving, and he nodded in my direction. I replied in kind.
Drawing in a contented breath, I dug out my planner and put it on the table. I flipped it open to today, skimmed the notes I'd made, and turned to a blank journal page. I tried using calendar apps, but I inevitably failed. Usually, I journaled before going to bed, but last night had been a wash. I was making notes when a tray slid in front of me piled high with pancakes, bacon, pots of butter, a big steaming mug of coffee and a pitcher of cream.
"This looks amazing. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Enjoy."
With a pencil in my left hand and a fork in the right, I continued to write and eat, and only one small drop of syrup pooled on the open page. I blotted it off. Mmm, the crew hadn’t exaggerated when they’d said how good the pancakes here were.
I turned to my to do-list for the move to Oak Creek and scanned down the page. I wasn't able to check many things off yet. I closed the planner, took a couple of big gulps of coffee and had just speared a slice of bacon when I heard a male voice.
"Good morning, how are you today?" I jumped when he slid into the seat across from me and took a sip from the coffee he had with him.
I was stunned he was so bold.
"I hope you don't mind me stopping by like this. I saw you sitting here all by yourself and thought maybe you need a good hometown welcome."
"Ah, that's nice of you, but I'm sorry, I don't know who you are?" I tended to be leery of people at first. I put my pencil down and stabbed at the pancakes as I kept an eye on him.
He set his mug on the table. "I just want to let you know that yesterday went really well. I think you did an awesome job, and I know it probably wasn't easy coming in brand-new like you did. But your reputation has preceded you, so we knew the investigation would go well."
I quickly put it together and realized what he was referring to. I pointed my fork at him. "Oh, you were on scene yesterday? I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you."
"No problem. We didn't officially meet," he said and smiled.
"Thank you. I appreciate that. It certainly wasn't the best kind of scene for a first day. But then, we can't pick and choose, can we?" He still hadn’t told me his name, so I was very careful with my words.
"No, we can't. Are you heading back over there after the autopsy?"
"Yes." I wasn't about to say too much. Less is more, and I'd learned to keep quiet while on scenes and away from them. You never knew who was listening.
