Fates Fickle Ways

Chapter Eight

Sitting on a bench in front of the water fountain was a man who looked to be in his early 50's. He looked haggard, like this investigation had taken everything out of him. He'd mentioned that the town was starting to believe he didn't do enough, I wonder now if the town's beliefs had shifted. I walked up to him, this isn't the time for fear or doubts of his true intentions. "Alan?" I already knew it was him, he was the only one out here and his Duskwood Police jacket would've given him away for a mile. He quickly held out his hand, and I shook it. "Ella. Nice to meet the most talked about person in Duskwood. Ready for that chat?" My face blushed. Most talked about person in Duskwood? They need more news. "Lead the way. Coffee is on me." He looked at me sideways, I'm sure it's not every day someone in my position willingly talks to the police. Much less offers to buy them coffee.

He led me to a coffee shop that was possibly cuter than the one back home. It brought up the memories of the first day. Three quarters through my murder mystery book, looking back that seems perfectly fitting. I didn't get through half of my coffee that morning, it felt weird having those conversations in the middle of a coffee shop on what was supposed to be a normal Wednesday. Turned out to be anything but normal.

After Alan and I both sat down with our coffees it took a minute for either of us to say anything. He was the first to speak up, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that was permeating the air. "I have to admit, I am surprised you came." I sighed. "My word is my bond. Though regrettably, I do need your help again. I, of course, don't expect it before I answer any questions you may have." I really did regret it. I asked him to trust me once, when he had no reason to. He surprised me when he did, but I'm not as sure now he will be willing to offer me the help I need. He tried his best to hide the look of shock that swept across his face, but I've learned how to read even the quickest of expressions.

    He sat back in his seat, his arms now crossed at his chest. This was it. This is where the line is drawn for me. I don't know what I expected calling him here knowing I was going to ask for his help. He's done enough already. I look down at my coffee, spinning the cup a little while I try to tame my nerves. "I'm sorry, I know I've already asked you for enough. I'll answer any questions you have and be on my way." It looks like I'll have to find another way to make this happen. "This is about Jake, isn't it?" Did I just hear him right?