Adena
I’m already praying when the bell above the door jingles.
The two officers from the cruiser step inside, shaking rain off their jackets.One's older—maybe late forties, with a gray mustache and the kind of gut that comes from too many shift meals.The other's younger, lean, with sharp eyes that sweep the diner like he's memorizing every face.
My pulse kicks up, but I keep my expression neutral.Fork to mouth.Chew.Swallow.Just another tired traveler eating catfish on a stormy night.
Across from me, Jagger's head down, eating his meal.He doesn’t even glance up, he's too well-trained for that—but there's a coiled tension in his shoulders that wasn't there thirty seconds ago.
The officers head for the counter.The older one takes a stool, the younger one stays standing, surveying the room one more time before settling beside his partner.
Lurleen appears with coffee and menus, her voice carrying across the diner."Evening, boys.Y'all want the usual?"
"Please, ma'am," the older officer says."Long night ahead."
The younger officer glances our way.
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I flash him the smile that won me Little Miss Chicago when I was seven—all polished charm and perfect posture.
He smiles back, a little too warmly, and turns to face the counter.
I exhale slowly through my nose and reach for my sweet tea."How's the meatloaf?"I ask Jagger, keeping my voice light.
He chews mechanically and bobs his head, his Cajun accent thickening."Almost as good as Dooky Chase's.'Course, Leah would never use this much ketchup in the glaze."
I laugh like we're having a normal conversation.
Lurleen brings the officers their food.They eat, talking in low voices.I can't make out the words, but the tone sounds routine.Shift talk.
I'm halfway through my catfish when the younger officer stands.For a second I think he’s coming to flirt, but he’s not.
"Evening, folks."He stops at our table, friendly smile in place."That your rig out front?The white box truck?"
Jagger looks up from his food."Surely is."
The officer nods, takes a sip of coffee."We got reports of some trouble on Highway 10 earlier this evening.Shots fired, couple vehicles involved.You happen to see anything unusual?"
My mouth goes dry, and I let my fingers flutter to my mouth, the way any normal civilian would upon hearing about violence on the roads.
“That’s awful!Was anyone hurt?”
The officer's gaze shifts to me.“No, ma’am.Not that we could tell.”
Not that they could tell?That sounds like the pickup truck that flipped was empty.
I feign relief I don’t feel as he swings his gaze back to Jagger, studying, assessing.
“You see anything, sir?”
Jagger shakes his head.“Nothing.”
The officer fixes his gaze on him for a few more beats, then bobs his head."Roads are dangerous tonight.You folks be careful out there."
"Will do, officer," Jagger says.
The officer tips his head and walks back to the counter.
I don't breathe.Don't look at Jagger.Just cut another piece of fish and bring it to my mouth, even though I can't taste anything anymore.
