Nobody's Agent

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

It was six in the morning, and the sky was a fiery red with the late sunrise. The streets of Finchley were quiet. Most people were already at work or just staying at home. Harrison pulled into the parking lot of Dan’s Diner and parked the Yukon next to Sam Trent’s red Ford F-150 truck. He knew it was Trent’s, just by looking at it.

Harrison was now the sheriff. He was promoted as soon as Karl Thomas had become Mayor. Of course, he hadn’t expected to be promoted, but then again, he wasn’t about to argue either. But, today, he wished he had because the Feds were on their way to investigate the bodies in the mine.

Harrison looked over at the truck for a moment; he knew it belonged to that pain-in-the-a*s journalist Sam Trent. He sneered slightly as his gaze darted between the truck and the diner. He was hoping for a quiet breakfast. But, unfortunately, the last thing he needed before he’d had his coffee was Trent and his theories regarding that true crime crap he’d been working on.

Harrison got out of the patrol vehicle and looked in Trent’s truck. It was clean inside, not the mobile office Trent usually kept. In fact, there were no papers, notebooks, or anything. He smiled; maybe the guy had given up his quest for the story? Either that or he decided to work from home instead of his vehicle.

The morning was beginning to get warm, but a crisp wind from the east made Harrison’s bare skin tingle. He caught his reflection in the glass of the vehicle’s side window and smiled. He wore a short-sleeve shirt, which, like his pants, had razor-like creases. Although he had to admit, Sue at the dry cleaners always did a hell of a job on his uniform; better than he could ever do, that was for sure.

Harrison entered the diner wearing his usual morning smile. The door made a sucking noise as he nudged it open with a flat palm.

Madeline Baker, the waitress and Dan’s wife, smiled as he stepped inside.

“Mornin’, Maddy,” Harrison said, taking off his ball cap to flatten his hair out.

“Mornin’, sheriff. Your usual?” she said.

“Sounds good to me, just as long as that old bastard ain’t made the coffee this time.” He laughed as he saw the of Dan’s scowling face appear from the service hatch.

“It’ll be right up, sheriff,” Maddy said.

Harrison nodded a thank you and looked around the diner. It was a prominent place, with enough room to seat forty people. It was a typical 1960’s diner with red PU leather seats in benched booths, which ran back-to-back along both sides of the room. The floor was a black and white checkerboard. The walls were white and full of memorabilia from the 60s. There was a jukebox at the end of the room between two doors for the restrooms.

The morning-sun bathed the diner in a honey glow, giving it a warm, homely feel. Harrison loved this time in the morning; it was quiet in the Diner, except for the usual suspects. At the counter was old man Lloyd, a slight man with weathered brown skin. He was over seventy but had that sharp, one-eyed stare. He wore a dark blue shirt with jeans and what appeared to be his old issue M65 army jacket. Many moons ago, he had been 1st Airborne. Now, he was alone with his ham, eggs, and coffee.

Dick Saunders, the town doctor, a round-looking guy in a beige suit with thinning black hair and a mustache, sat at the back of the room. The man was crammed into a booth looking at something he didn’t need anyone else to see on his laptop. He had a stack of empty plates next to the computer, meaning he’d gotten there early.

“Mornin’, sheriff,” said the doc as he peered over the top of his laptop and pulled it down slightly.

“Mornin’, doc,” Harrison replied.

Old man Lloyd remained silent and lifted his coffee mug in greeting. Harrison nodded in reply.

Harrison made his way to his usual seat facing the door in the middle of the window side row of booths. For him, it was a perfect seat for tactical purposes, not too close to the door or too far back. And, he had a perfect view out of the window and of the door. Then, as he sat, he looked around again before staring curiously out of the window at Sam Trent’s truck.

Maddy walked over to the Harrison holding the mug of coffee, her shoes squeaking as she went. She was tall and blonde with an hourglass figure. Like Dan, Maddy was in her fifties, and she had been an attractive woman once. However, the years of hard labor had taken their toll, but she was still a looker, too pretty for the likes of Dan, some would say, but they were good together.

Harrison sat back in his seat as she placed down the coffee and shot her quick nod toward the red Ford.

“So, where’s Trent? Ain’t in here,” Harrison asked, picking up the coffee mug, feeling the warmth coming through the porcelain.

“Dunno, ain’t seen him this morning. I guess he left his truck here last night.” Maddy shrugged.

“What time did he leave?” Harrison asked, expecting a tale of the reporter getting waisted before heading home on foot.

“He didn’t,” Maddy replied.

“Didn’t what…leave?” Harrison said.

“No, come in. He didn’t come here last night,” she said, looking over at the truck then at Harrison. “You don’t think somethin’ happened to him, do you?”

Harrison shrugged, almost as if he didn’t care if something had. Trent had proven to be trouble. But he was curious.

“He’ll be fine, Maddy. Probably sleeping it off somewhere. But don’t worry, he’ll be in later spouting all kinds of s**t, you wait,” Harrison said before taking a sip from the strong coffee.

Maddy nodded, but all the while, she feared the worse. Sam Trent had stirred up some feeling with his investigation into this true crime, that had been for sure.

Harrison thought nothing more of it because he had other things on his mind. The Feds were on their way after he’d called them in for assistance. After all, the bodies were on federal land, so it was their problem— less for him to worry about, but still, he felt uneasy about it.