Chapter 2
THOMAS
“I know, buddy,” I say to him. “We made it.” My phone dings in the center console with a message from Miles, one of the paramedics on duty last night.
Miles
Hey man, I won’t be able to make it this morning. Lochlan wants to head up to the lake and start our weekend early, but Hannah should be there.
Me
Good deal. Have a great weekend, tell Lochlan I said hi.
I don’t know why I never had Hannah’s number until earlier this morning, but I hope she comes.
She doesn’t come out much, unless Miles is there, and I hope she knows we don’t bite.
Yeah, she’s a lot younger than the rest of us, probably about ten years, but I don’t mind that.
We’re all adults, and working in a high stress job.
To be honest, I would much rather curl up in my bed right now than go out for breakfast with everyone, but like I said, it was a crappy night, and I think we could all use a little pick-me-up.
I stride into the station with Arson at my side.
There isn’t much activity here this early in the morning, and I’m thankful for it.
I pull up a chair at a table in the common area, and start filling out the paperwork I know can’t wait.
Thirty minutes later, Arson paws at my leg, desperate for his morning meal, and my stomach grumbles in response.
I toss a scoop of food in his bowl, and he starts scarfing it down.
A look at the clock tells me I have ten minutes until breakfast, which gives me enough time to walk the few blocks down to the diner.
“Morning, Thomas,” Henry greets me as he walks through the door, thermos of coffee in hand. He is one of the detectives we brought on for the drug trafficking case. “I just finished up at the scene from this morning.”
“Anything notable?” I ask, though I have a feeling it’s going to be the same answer as always, no.
He shakes his head somberly. “Nothing.”
I pass him the file folder with my report and information, and he takes it with a nod. “Off for the rest of the day?” he asks.
“Yep. Off to breakfast, then I’m crashing. I’m off for a few days after this.”
“Good for you.”
“Can Arson hang out with you while I’m at breakfast? Judy down at the diner doesn’t like it when I try to convince her to let me bring him in.”
“Hmm, I can’t imagine why,” Henry says with a chuckle. “Of course. I’ll grab his bed and a water bowl from down the hall and he can hang with me.”
“Thanks, man.” I offer him a goodbye, then give my dog a scratch behind the ear. Of course, Arson follows me nearly out the door until Henry calls him back to his office. I hate leaving him behind, but if I try sneaking him into the diner again, Judy’s never going to forgive me.
The sun is starting to rise as I stroll down the cracked cement sidewalk of my hometown.
I like to go on walks in the mornings or evenings after my shift anyway, so this will count as my walk.
I like to do it as a way to sort of give my brain time to process, or think about things I witnessed or experienced on the shift.
I live in a small town, so I won’t deny that I don’t see nearly as much horrible shit as I might working in a higher population area, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deal with some vile shit.
It almost makes it harder when you learn things about a person you’ve known your whole life and it changes the way you look at them.
I reach the diner right on time, and glance around the near-empty room. A few older gentlemen sit at the bar chatting over their coffee, and Judy flits around, getting ready for the morning rush.
I don’t see anyone from the crew in the diner, so I pick a round table big enough for our group, and take a seat. Judy strides over with a menu even though I don’t need it, plopping one in front of me and setting an empty mug in front of me.
“Morning, kiddo,” she greets as she fills the mug with rich smelling coffee. She not so sneakily peeks under the table at my feet. “No Arson this morning?”
“Figured I’d get scolded if I did,” I tell her with a laugh.
“You’d be right,” she snarks. “He’s a good pup, though.”
“That he is.”
“The usual?” Judy asks, not even looking at me. She glances up as the bell above the door chimes and I follow her lead. Hannah walks in, shoving her hands in the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt.
I shake my head. “Yes, but not yet. There’s a few people joining us.” I stand, waving at Hannah until she sees me. Her cheeks burn red as she strides over to the table.
Judy mutters her agreement, walking off as I pull out a chair for Hannah. “Morning,” I say, sitting back down as she settles in next to me. “How was the rest of your shift?”
She shrugs, not looking at me as she scoots her chair slightly away from me. “It was fine, one chest pain, and one fall assist at the nursing home. Nothing too crazy. Where is everyone?” Hannah looks up as if she expects everyone to have suddenly appeared.
“Don’t know,” I reply. “I can check and see. I’m pretty sure Leo and Steve said they’d stop by.” I pull out my phone and note the missed texts from both of them letting me know they won’t make it.
Judy drops a mug in front of Hannah and fills a cup of coffee for her without Hannah even having to ask.
“Well, I guess it’s just us,” I announce, noticing the way Hannah tenses. “The other guys can’t make it.”
“Oh,” Hannah mumbles, taking a slow sip of her coffee.
“Do you want a minute to look at the menu, or should we order?”
“We can order,” she states abruptly.
“I’ll have my usual, Judy.” I smile and pass her my menu.
Hannah glances at the menu briefly and swallows harshly.
“I’ll have a bowl of oatmeal and rye toast.” Her voice shakes and when she hands the menu back to Judy, I note the stiffness in her body.
Her breakfast choice is interesting to me as well.
It’s not something I’d order for myself at a diner known for their breakfasts, but who am I to say anything?
“How are you feeling after last night, er, this morning?” I ask Hannah.
She shrugs, some of the tenseness still in her shoulders. “Fine. Just another night I guess. It sucks, but it is what it is, right?”
I nod. “Right, but I mean, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here,” I offer. As if I’m one to talk. I’ve been trying to be fine, to process things on my own, but I’m close to a breaking point. It’s why I suggested this group breakfast this morning. I needed someone to confide in.
Hannah chokes on the gulp of coffee she took, and starts coughing. “Shoot, you okay?” I ask while I pat her back and offer her a napkin.
She waves me off, and clears her throat a few times. “Sorry, swallowed wrong.”
“No worries, as long as you’re okay.”
“Fine,” she says. “Are you doing okay after last night?” She looks up and I finally get a full glimpse of her face for the first time since she sat down.
Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail with a few pieces falling out over her ears, pieces that probably fell out during her shift.
Her blue eyes are bright despite our long night and the sheer exhaustion she must be feeling.
There are flecks of gray in her eyes that I’ve never noticed before, and a smattering of freckles dance across her nose and cheeks.
It feels like I’m seeing her for the first time, even though I’ve known her for years now. She’s a damn good paramedic, has been since her first day. She has good instincts, and people in town love her.
I’m brought back to the conversation at hand when Hannah notices me staring. She quickly wipes at her face as if she has something stuck to it, and brushes the loose pieces of hair back.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “Like you said, it sucks, but it is what it is.”
The real truth of it though, is that I’m not fine. No one wants people to die, and no one wants to be the one to tell the mom of a seventeen-year-old kid that their child is dead.
So, why aren’t I confiding in Hannah?
“Actually,” I state, ready to spill my guts to this girl, but Judy slides our plates in front of us, and walks away without asking if we need anything else.
“Actually?” Hannah asks, picking up her spoon and poking at the globular-shaped oatmeal in the bowl. I don’t miss the slight grimace as she lifts a scoop to her lips and swallows it down harshly. Damn, she’s not even going to put brown sugar or milk in it?
I shake my head, ignoring her questionable oatmeal choices.
“Never mind,” I state, hunger overtaking me now that my food is in front of me.
I dig into my meal of hash browns, eggs, and ham, and change the subject.
It doesn’t escape my notice again that Hannah is barely eating, picking at her oatmeal, and is that…
rye bread? Who likes rye bread for breakfast? Did she really mean to order that?