Secrets Of The Guilty [Nanowrimo 2019]

THREE

Ryan slides into their regular booth at Regg's Diner, two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands. He pushes one across the sticky surface. Eli's second cup this morning. Regg's is owned by a guy names Arnold, who bought the restaurant from a man named Alex, who's sisters best friend is hooking up with a guy named Reggie.

"How much did the recording pick up?" Ryan settles into the booth opposite Eli. His legs stretched underneath him, wide and long. His own mug of coffee is cradled in his hands, fogging the bottom of his glasses every time he takes a sip.

"Enough. The interference is messing with the voices, it's hard to tell who's speaking but the words are clear." She pull the paper across the table, smiling at the headline. "It's a nice picture at least."

Ryan scoffs into his mug.

He'd been more than happy to lay the paper on the table and point out the picture of Eli under The Gazette's article on yesterday's situation.

"Anderson says Robert's on his second pack today." Ray taps his fingers against the table, one of his habits. Eli shakes her head, a small smile hidden behind her coffee mug. "Says he's been pacing the office."

"He can wait a little longer to start asking me questions." Ryan laughs at that. The waitress comes over with their usual orders. Extra bacon on her and double eggs on his.

"So, the real reason for me asking you here today is to let you in on a tiny piece of information I know will tickle you pink." He picks up a ketchup bottle, drowning his hash browns. "Friends of mine say, Fenton hasn't said a word. No lawyer of his own. Won't open his mouth. These friends also frequent the courthouse. Alex Tanner went to pull all of the records on the dock cases."

Eli leans back into the booth, her fingers twirl a single fry. "You knew I wouldn't be sleeping."

"You ended up at Nat's place. You go there when you need peace, not sleep." He says, cutting his sandwich into halves before bitting into a corner.

"Thank you. And Charlie Fenton isn't my guy."

"He is according to the article with your face under it." Ryan says, watching Eli pull a pen from her bag and draw a large eyebrow across the picture above her forehead. "The picture bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Like an itch." Eli, pulls the bun off her sandwich, laying her own swirl of ketchup and adding her fries under the bun. She stacks the sandwich, squishing it twice before taking a bite. "I have to go to the station to give a statement. I'll ask those friends of yours if it's true."

"Their my friends leave them alone," Ryan pulls the napkin to his mouth before continuing. "I'm serious Eli, I don't pay them enough not to talk to you."

"I wouldn't dare." With a swish of a blue skirt, the waitress walked back over to the booth. She lays a large piece of pie in front of Eli. Apple. One fork.

"The young man said you needed something strong. Extra whip. On the house." Kelly set the bill on the table and walked to the next booth. After the pie had been eaten and explicitly not shared with Eli's companion, she slid a twenty on the table. Adding a few extra bills for Kelly.

Ryan shrugged on his jacket. The remaining sandwich handing from his mouth.

"I need to be on the Hall steps in about an hour. Mayor kiss ass has a statement to make about his campaign." He ducks under the door after Eli.

A line of taxi's crowd the street. The morning rush bathing the city in steam and honking horns. One longe cyclist weaves between parked cars, dodging clouds of steam from the subways and swerving onto the sidewalk. Ryan dodges him, pulling his body into the nearest cab.

Eli steps into the Capital Press lobby, paper tucked under her arm. At the security desk, the morning guard sends Eli a smile. A compact man, white hair lining his temples and the hair at his chin. She flashes her ID badge at him, protocol even though he'd been here long before she was old enough to see over the desk.

"There was a man here to see you earlier." His eyes are hard, sharp and black. He's been here longer than anyone else in the building, a personal hire from her editor, he's seen a thing or two, and done a thing or two. This is why, when he says things like that Eli knows he doesn't just mean some random off the street.

"Did he say what he wanted?" The security guard shifts his shoulders. A small enough movement that it looked like he'd simply changed his footing. But he's exposed the view behind him. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"Just to speak to you," Eli hums in response. She settles the paper on the desk, her picture hidden in the fold. "Didn't leave a name."

"No one ever does. I'll be back for that paper." The guard watches her walk back out of the building into the morning sidewalk traffic.

Eli lets him follow her into the small side street between buildings. It's reserved for foot traffic, mostly. The occasional late night drinkers dot the street ends later at night, but its out of site from prying eyes. Eli puts her hands in her pockets. Slowly walking into the street. Taking her time.

"Do you make a habit of waiting for people outside their place of work, instead of making phone calls?" Eli calls out behind her, keeping her head turned towards the entrance of the street. A single cruiser is parked at the end. Capital Press is situated halfway to city call and halfway to the police

Eli can see both from where she's standing.

"Only when I need to speak to them, off the record," he said simply. His voice was smooth, an accent changing the deeper vowels. She glances sidelong at the man who's come up next to her. His eyes on her. Smartly dressed, handsome, and there tucked beneath his jacket sleeve a nice watch. Well, employed, possibly.

Eli nods once.

"I don't talk to people who don't introduce themselves." The hand with the watch around the wrist is bruised along the knuckles. Eli thumbs the small knife in her pocket, the metal warming against her palm. Past experiences like this are enough for her to know how to protect her self. It wasn't her first meeting with someone from the not so nice parts of Capital City. Eli steps to the side, forcing the man off the sidewalk and into the street. "And no promises about off the record."

"I've been sent to give you a warning."

"About?" She could see it, this was a man who would hunt what he wanted, whatever suited him. The cut of his jaw and way he watched her. So, who sent him all the way over here?

"Capital City is stirring. Some big players are settling. Soon, one of them will make the first move." Eli watches him run his bruised hand across his mouth. He keeps his eyes on hers, her eyes on him. "When that happens we need you to look the other way."

"Who's the warning from? Who's we?"

"An old friend."

11/03/19