Page 11 of Midnight Creed

“You don’t look FBI.”

“Sometimes that helps.”

The woman didn’t smile at Maggie’s attempt at humor, but she nodded like she understood exactly what Maggie meant.

Since she made no effort to move, Maggie backtracked until she was a few feet in front of her.

“You working with those other cops? Cause all they wanna do is move us out. They don’t care where we go as long as we’re not in their way. They don’t even care about Danny. They just dragged him out of here in that bag like he was nothing.”

“Did you know Danny?”

The woman’s eyes flicked to the side, and she pursed her lips together. Mentioning his name may have been a slip of the tongue. If Maggie remembered correctly, Racine’s team didn’t even have a name connected to the victim, yet.

“I don’t know anything about nothing,” she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her bundled chest.

Despite the slip, she’d called out to Maggie. Maybe she just needed prompting.

“It’s really cold out here. You want to get a cup of coffee?” Maggie gestured to the door on the left and three stairs up from them. Morning rush was over. From what Maggie could see, there were plenty of empty tables.

“They don’t allow us in there.”

“I doubt they’ll say anything if you’re with an FBI agent.”

The woman looked up and held Maggie’s eyes, studying her as if searching for a trap.

“I can’t leave my things.” She pointed to a battered canvas tote and a plastic garbage bag tied up in a way to leave a handle at the top.

“Bring them along.” Maggie moved to the front of the stairs, leaving the railing side for the woman to join her. She was tempted to help carry her things, but stopped herself. She didn’t want to look pushy or worse—anxious about whatever information she had.

When the woman stood, she was barely five-foot tall, but she knew how to leverage the bags over her slumped shoulder and under her arm. She followed, one step then two, stopping to look up and examine Maggie again. Her head swiveled back to the street, checking if she’d missed a setup. Even as Maggie held the door open for her, she came through slowly, eyes now darting to the employees, expecting someone to shout and tell her to leave.

The man behind the counter simply nodded when he realized the two were together. Maggie chose a table in the corner where no one was in earshot. And there was extra space for the woman to deposit her bags and keep them close.

Maggie shrugged out of her jacket and sat down. The woman didn’t remove a single piece of clothing, but she pulled down the scarf beneath her chin.

“I’m Maggie, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Years ago, they called me Vanessa. Now I go by Nessie.”

“I’ll get us a couple cups of coffee. How do you like yours?”

“Hot would be nice.”

Maggie smiled and waited. Then she realized she was serious. That was her only request. All Nessie cared about was that the coffee be hot.

8

Maggie kept Nessie in her peripheral vision while she ordered. The woman watched out the window but glanced at the door. Was she worried someone might see her with an FBI agent? Maybe she was having second thoughts and considered bolting.

Maggie brought a tray with the coffees, along with a plate of freshly baked doughnuts and assorted pastries.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” she explained, “So, I got a few of each.”

She saw something flicker across the woman’s face that surprised her. Something childlike. The tight line of her mouth eased and almost curved up. She clapped her mittened-hands together before she caught herself. Though she still hadn’t taken off any of her outer wear, she now carefully pulled off the thick mittens. She set them aside, her eyes not leaving the freshly baked goods, as if she expected them to vanish as easily as they appeared.

Then she sat back and inhaled. Finally, she looked up at Maggie.

“You’re bribing me to talk about Danny.” But there wasn’t a trace of suspicion or accusation in her voice. Instead, she gave an admirable nod to Maggie’s tactics.