VICTOR WALKED DOWN the alley to come out on River Street. Merryfield’s office would not open for a half hour, and Victor needed the coffee he’d normally put down at the Beehive. He stood outside the Brew Ha Ha, a new spot that prided itself on gourmet coffees, organic scones, and tofu omelets. He’d never been inside the place, but it was directly across the street from building that housed Merryfield’s office on its top floor. Beside the entrance, the wall was marked with a slash of red paint at eye level and the words, “Height of 1927 Flood.”
Victor went into the Brew Ha Ha and ordered a cup of coffee. The girl behind the counter did not so much as glance his way and none of the few people in the place paid him any mind. This was a new crowd to him, a younger generation raised and schooled elsewhere. Kids who moved here from the likes of Brooklyn and Boston and Boulder. Girls with thick black eyeglasses and goateed boys with retro fedoras cocked precariously atop their heads.
Victor sat by the window where he could keep an eye on Merryfield’s building and began to take notes in his pad for his meeting with the police later. He sipped at the black coffee. Sipped again. It was house coffee. Something called Kenyan Dark. It was pretty good. Really good. He’d never tasted coffee like it.
As he settled in with a second cup, he watched for Merryfield.
Where was he?
Daryn Banks ambled past the window and glanced inside the place. Spying Victor, he waved and smiled, entered the café. Victor did not want interruption. He needed to keep an eye out and be able to react as soon as he saw Merryfield.
But, if anyone was going to interrupt him, he supposed Daryn was the most welcome. He’d proved an ally when others had abandoned Victor and his family.
“Victor,” Daryn said and eyed the seat opposite. “May I?”
Victor nodded, then eyed the door to Merryfield’s office building across the street.
Daryn sat. “What brings you here? This isn’t exactly your kind of place, I would gather. Nor mine.” He laughed and glanced around, rolled his eyes.
Victor said nothing as he watched Merryfield’s office building.
“I won’t keep you, I just saw you and thought I’d come in to apologize,” Daryn said.
“I don’t understand,” Victor said.
“I’ve not put together the prayer circle yet. And with what’s happened with your son, I imagine it might have been of use. I am reaching out to people though. So, soon, I hope. I can’t say how sorry I am for your suffering.”
“I have new hope since this morning,” Victor said.
“Well, good! It will make a fine starting point for the prayer circle.”
Victor tapped his wedding ring on the edge of his mug. “I don’t know. I don’t know where I might be after today. So much has changed.”
Daryn looked taken aback. “I hope in a good way,” he said.
“For what’s best,” Victor said.
“Good. Good. Well. I’ll leave you in peace. This place is too rich for my blood anyway,” he said with a laugh.
“Sorry. I’m not much company.”
“Understandable. I hope you and your family get all you deserve.”
“Thank you,” Victor said.
“My pleasure. God bless.”