Page 54

Story: Safe with Me

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” After I end the call, I get everything back into the folder and set it in a tray on my desk. Looking at my watch, I realize I need to meet Johnson and McCormick at the diner. And I really need some coffee to keep my ass awake today. I grab my keys and wallet and walk over to the diner.
When I walk into the diner, the smell of pancakes and sausage hits me. My stomach rumbles the moment it realizes where we are. I take a look around and nod to some of the townspeople as they wave. I spot McCormick and Johnson sitting in a booth and head over to the table.
I plop down into the leather seats, sighing as I do. My two deputies stare at me, and I’m sure they’re trying to gauge my mood. But I couldn’t give a shit. Today I’m not in a “give a fuck” kind of mood. I stare out the window, and my mind going toher. Zoey. There’s a pain in my chest as I think of her name. Before the two in front of me can ask anything, Joan reaches our table.
“Hey there, Sheriff. These two already ordered, so what can I get for you?” She stands next to me with her pad in her hand.
“The usual, Joan.” I nod to her.
“Pancakes coming right up. I’ll be back with your coffee too.” She gives me a sad smile. From what she’s told me, she still can’t believe that Zoey stole that money, and she’s been trying to do everything she can to find the reason it’s missing. In fact, she was at the bank all day yesterday trying to get the bank to tell her they just misplaced it. They didn’t. The banks cameras caught her at the deposit box, but you can’t see her drop the deposit bag in. Her back was to the camera blocking the view of the bag going in. So, when Joan went over to the bank, there was no way to show that it got dropped off. The camera didn’t pick that up. The evidence points to Zoey never putting it in the overnight drop box.
McCormick and Johnson are both leaning back against the booth and staring at me. McCormick finally breaks the silence.
“You doing all right? Because you look like shit.” His lip curls up in a slight smile. A smile I want to wipe off his face. Smug asshole.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not. Didn’t sleep last night. I can’t get what happened out of my head. Not to mention that something just feels off about it. About her.”
McCormick leans forward and folds his arms on the tabletop, “Well, yeah, you had a thing for Zoey, and she didn’t turn out to be who you thought she was. I’m pretty sure that would affect anyone. I’m also pretty sure it would confuse you enough to doubt what’s right in front of you.”
“It’s not that.” I shake my head. “Yes, I did have a thing for her, but I’m missing something. Nothing my FBI contact gave me makes any sense. It doesn’t match who I knew or who she was around me. Hell, who she was around town.” I fold my hands, placing my elbows on the table.
Joan places a stack of pancakes in front of me with a cup of coffee. I nod to her. “Thank you.” She then places the other two plates down in front of Johnson and McCormick.
“You got it, Sheriff.” Joan smiles and heads over to clear off some tables across the diner.
McCormick takes a bite of his eggs and then points the fork towards me. “You’re crazy if you think something else is going on. Girl is cuckoo. She played you, Holliday. You’re a complete fool if you think otherwise.”
“Why, because I have a hunch that it is? Because something feels off with the information I received?” My voice raises, and I narrow my eyes.
“Because DNA doesn’t lie. It told you who she was, who she is. Why are you fighting the evidence?” McCormick shoves a piece of sausage in his mouth, then continues to talk with his food in his mouth. “She’s a crazy person. End of story, Holliday.”
Johnson looks up from his oatmeal. “Look, I hate to agree with this asshole,”—he tilts his head towards McCormick, chewing—“but he’s right. The DNA told you who she was, it just wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Maybe that’s what’s bothering you?” He shrugs and then looks back down at his boring ass bowl of oatmeal.
I swallow the pancake I have in my mouth. It doesn’t even taste like a pancake. It’s dry and flavorless. And I know it’s not Joan or the diner’s fault. It’s mine. Nothing tastes good. Everything is bitter, like my heart. I shake my head. “Well, I’ll find out soon enough. I’m having my contact look further into it.”
McCormick sets his water down, “Seriously? Why? Why waste that person’s time? Well, really, the FBI’s time. She isn’t worth it! She’s a liar, a psycho! She destroyed your family’s store, Holliday.”
“Maybe just let it go, boss. Why put yourself through all this? What if it comes back that all this information is true? You just wasted more time on it.” Johnson looks down at his dish and pushes his food around the place with his spoon. “She was a nice girl, but she had her secrets. She obviously has her own demons she’s fighting. Don’t drive yourself crazy over it.”
We sit there quietly for several more minutes, finishing our breakfasts, and I mull over what my deputies were trying to get across to me. McCormick gets up and throws down some money. He looks at me, but his face shows no emotion. He simply nods and takes off.
Johnson scoots over and takes out his wallet, putting some cash down as well. “I have some paperwork to do back at the station. I’ll see you there later?”
“Yeah.” With that, he leaves. Sipping my coffee, I reach into my pocket to take out my phone, but it isn’t there. “Shit.” I realize that I left it back in the office. I leave money on the table and down the last bit of coffee. I wave to Joan and exit the diner.
It’s a beautiful October day. The air is cool and crisp, and the sky is clear and blue. I stand outside on the sidewalk. Placing my hands on my belt, I exhale loudly. Even with the sun shining, my mind feels like it in a fog. I shake my head and turn towards the station. As I get to an alley in between the bar and diner, I hear a familiar voice yelling.
“… he had the FBI look further into it … No!” The person must have been talking on the phone. I slowly step closer to the building to see if I can try to hear more. “You said you would pay it off!”
Another pause.
“Okay, but she left town. Nicole’s all yours now! Why do you still need me? You said I’d be done, that my debt would be cleared. We had a fucking deal!” I hear the person sigh. I can’t hear anymore, so I start to turn around the corner just as the person drops his phone back into his pocket. And I stare at someone I trusted and respected.
Deputy Johnson.
My fists curl at my sides, and my eyes narrow into slits. “What the fuck did you do?” I roar.
Johnson’s eyes widen, and his hands come up in defense. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”