The Minutes We Have

chapter four

I tapped my fingers against the counter. 

It was a chilly winter day and my shift felt like it was longer than usual because not many people were out today. I honestly hadn't seen more than three people pass by on the street in the past hour. I guess everyone was staying home where it was warm.

It was my third day at the Little Red Diner, and I didn't mind it. I actually loved that the work environment wasn't toxic and I didn't feel drained of my soul at the end of a shift. Sometimes, I found myself laughing a lot more than I ever had at a job.

I had spent all three of those days working with Bailey. Needless to say, after our first encounter when I was getting hired, we really hit it off. He showed me the ropes on the first day and then after that, we worked together really well. There were definitely a lot of jokes in between customers, and we purposefully picked on each other. 

I hadn't really thought I would make friends, being new to town and all, but Bailey didn't mind at all. I had asked him about it once and he insisted that the other people in town could be boring, and he liked befriending new people. I appreciated his energy. 

Still, I was thinking about the sheriff's house. 

Suddenly, I saw Bailey breezing by and I stood upright. "Hey, Bailey?" 

He stopped, turning to me, "What's up?" 

"Do you know anything about the sheriff here?" 

Bailey blinked, processing my questions and then he walked back toward me to lean against the counter, "Did you see something?" 

"No," I replied, "I'm just curious." 

"Uh-huh," He leveled me with a bored expression, "You're a shit liar, you know that?" 

I swallowed, "I saw his house." 

"A dump, am I right or am I right?" He chuckled, and then ran his hand through his blonde hair, "I dunno, he keeps to himself a lot, and it's just him and his daughter. His wife was murdered eleven years ago." 

"Did they ever find the killer?" 

Bailey laughed, his head tipping back slightly before he met my eyes with an incredulous expression, "Of course they did! Geez, you're awfully suspicious for being new to town." 

I sighed, glancing out the windows of the diner, "I've just never had a good outcome with cops." 

"Okay, number one," He held up his pointer finger, "Cops are different than sheriffs," Then he held up a second finger, "Number two, you've never had a good experience? For real?" His blue eyes conveyed the questions he pinned me with. 

I briefly considered my answer. A. Cameron flashed through my mind, and I was shaking my head, "Not really." 

"Not all cops are bad." 

"Not all that glitters is gold." 

He nodded, "That's true, but I never pegged you as the superstitious kind." 

"I'm not." 

He stared blankly at me, an eyebrow rose slightly. 

"Okay," I huffed, "Maybe a little. But you can never be too careful." 

He studied me for a moment longer, "Right again, my friend. But seriously, you're definitely hiding something, and I will find out." He winked, "Now c'mon, back to work before Mallory catches us slacking." 

I rolled my eyes but listened to him. It wasn't even that busy today, we had mostly been cleaning. I was sure there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere in the building, and I had cleaned the mugs on the wall at least fifteen times.