Creed tried not to watch Jason wolf down his burger, though it was like a car accident on the side of the road. Messy, but hard to look away.
Jason had chosen what the Oval Office called their Myrtle Burger. It was seven ounces of beef with grilled onions and melted cheese. A beautiful creation on its own. Jason included the standard burger toppings of lettuce, tomato, pickles and mayo, so the sandwich stood at least six-inches tall.
It constantly amazed Creed how much the kid could eat. His lean, compact body seemed geared to accommodate an insatiable appetite. Creed glanced over at Norwich, who was devouring her own sandwich. She caught his eyes and darted a look over to Jason, then smiled, obviously pleased.
The owner had allowed them to bring in Scout and Grace. Creed accepted his offer of bowls of water for the dogs but turned down burgers of their own. He was careful about what his dogs ate, and both understood the protein bars they’d eaten in the Jeep would hold them over until they were fed their meals. Now they lie at their handlers’ feet, tucked close and content to watch the other patrons.
Their working vests signaled that they were not to be disturbed. Creed heard the couple across the room explaining to their little girl why she couldn’t run over and “pet the doggies.”
With his chair backed against the wall, he kept alert as he ate. His view included a window overlooking the parking lot, so he could determine ahead of time any commotion or threat before it came in the door. It was an old habit, drilled into him during his time in Afghanistan. Back then, it didn’t matter if he and Rufus were on duty or off. It seemed like every hour of every day there was some potential threat. He’d learned to assess quickly and act instantaneously. And even now, without the litany of risks, he still did it subconsciously.
He was also watching Norwich closely. Both he and Jason had been with her last summer when she suffered a heart attack. She’d spent a few days in the hospital. Had some kind of procedure. Less invasive. Stents maybe?
Whatever she’d gone through, she looked good. Her rolled up sleeves exposed lean forearms. For as long as Creed had known her, her hair had been steel gray. He guessed her age to be somewhere in her fifties. Out of all the sheriffs they worked with on a regular basis, Norwich was his favorite. She was straightforward, fair, and honest. And she respected his dogs and valued their abilities.
But Creed had to admit, he was taken back by how shook up the sheriff looked after their encounter with the construction dumper. He couldn’t figure out what had happened. Was it fear he’d witnessed? Did she feel vulnerable after the heart attack? No way would he ask.
“This missing teen who’s no longer missing, bothers me,” Norwich said, poking a French fry in his direction. “One of his parents is lying.”
“Why would they lie?” Jason asked. Then he gestured to Creed’s plate. “Are you gonna eat the rest of your fries?”
“Yes, I’m gonna eat them.”
“The dad’s a bully,” Norwich said. “Just like that guy dumping concrete into the woods. No respect for laws. They follow the ones that suit them. And definitely no respect for law enforcement.”
“They probably know each other,” Jason said, gesturing to the waitress for a refill of his soda.
“The garbage dumper and Monroe?”
“Yeah, I mean, he works with Ramsey Construction. Monroe does the final landscape after RC finishes their custom houses.”
Creed and Norwich stared at Jason.
He shrugged. “I’ve seen the trucks at the same sites.”
“His girlfriend’s father-in-law owns Ramsey Construction,” Creed told her.
“Oh. Interesting.” She pointed to what was left of her food. “This was my first hamburger and fries since the heart attack.” She said it matter-of-fact. “I almost forgot how good this stuff tastes.” She wiped her mouth and pushed the plate to the center of the table. “I didn’t touch those last fries if you’d like them,” she told Jason.
“Thanks.” He didn’t hesitate, dumping more ketchup to drag them through.
“Your girlfriend,” she said, “isn’t there a custody battle going on with her and the in-laws?”
“She’s getting full custody after Christmas.”
Norwich’s brow furrowed before she could stop it. She put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand like the gesture might prompt her to remember something.
Jason had his head down and didn’t notice. But Creed noticed. “What is it?” he asked.
“Probably nothing,” she said.
Now she had Jason’s full attention, too. “You heard something?”
“Just made me think of what I heard going around the courthouse.”
Both men stared at her. She frowned and shook her head.
“It’s probably nothing.”
Except it was the second time she’d said it. Creed and Jason waited.
“Ramsey Construction,” she finally said. “They were just rewarded a multi-million dollar contract to do the courthouse’s remodeling.” Then, as if to soften the coincidence, she added, “Heaven knows that place needs it.”
Creed remembered Hannah complaining that Dora Ramsey sounded as if she expected her husband’s construction company to get the contract for an addition to the Segway House. The Ramseys had given a generous donation. Maybe they were used to dealing in quid pro quo.
“Her mother-in-law has been coming down pretty hard on Taylor,” Jason told them. “She’s critical of every little thing. Like she’s keeping score.”
“She might be,” Norwich said.
“For the lawyers,” Jason added, nodding like it was something he’d already considered.
“Custody battles are tough.” Norwich folded her hands together on the edge of the table. “Years ago, I gave up custody of my boy.”
Creed stopped mid-bite. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know Norwich had a son.
She waved a hand, as if expecting their surprise and dismissing it. “That was a long time ago. Decades. I was just starting out. This profession isn’t easy on women, let alone women trying to have families.”
“What happened?” Jason asked.
Norwich shrugged. “He chose his father. Blamed me for everything that happened. Even a few things that didn’t happen. Kids are so easily manipulated into believing the strangest things. Their minds, their realities, are so malleable.” She shook her head. “After his father died, he didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“How long has it been since you’ve talked to him?”
“A long time. Too long. But I still reach out. Every year I invite him to come spend the holidays. I don’t even know if he gets my invitations. But I still send them. Just in case.”
“Can I get you folks dessert?” Their waitress interrupted. She stood at the vacated table next to them, stacking dishes.
Creed didn’t need to look at Jason. Dessert at the Oval Office meant pie. Made locally. Didn’t matter what flavor. It was a resounding “yes” all around. With coffee. Normally, Creed would have begged off, saying he needed to get back. But he enjoyed Norwich’s company. And how could he deny Jason pie?
When the waitress left, Creed waited for Norwich to continue, but she seemed relieved at the interruption. To lighten the mood, he said, “I should be watching what I eat. I need to fit into a rented tuxedo tonight.”
“I’m sure you won’t have any worries,” Norwich smiled at him. “After all you’ve been through, you look great. Actually, you look like you could stand to gain a few pounds. Is this for the Segway House fundraiser?”
“Yes. And it is for a good cause.”
“And because Hannah’s making him,” Jason laughed.