Falling Down The Stairs

Chapter Seven

Sarah took a long drink of lukewarm coffee, and set the mug down on the table in front of her. The mug was off-white and so was the table but they were both beginning to yellow from god knows what. The windows were clean and they looked out into the diner parking lot and there were cars passing by with regularity on the road. Across the street was a set of three small offices, all for rent for less than a thousand a month.

"Cheap," she said to nobody.

A waitress, a pretty older woman with red hair and tattoos on her arms, sat a plate of breakfast down in front of Sarah. Eggs, bacon, and one singular waffle. No butter on the waffle. Sarah thought butter on waffles made it taste like grease.

"Anything else, love?" said the pretty older waitress.

"I'll take a top off," Sarah said, picking up her coffee cup, and the pretty older waitress took her coffee cup and walked away.

Outside, in the parking lot, a large black SUV pulled into view. It parked neatly into a space. Sarah watched and waited but when the driver side door opened, only the governor exited. He had driven himself, and he had come alone. Sarah found that interesting. The pretty older waitress set Sarah's fresh coffee back on the table and walked away.

The governor walked in and the door jingled and everybody looked up but only Sarah knew who he was. He stretched his neck as he walked over to Sarah's table, and sat down. He was wearing a white button down shirt tucked into jeans with no belt and the top two buttons were undone on his shirt. His hair was unstyled but not messy and he yawned as soon as his ass hit the seat.

"Whatcha got?" he said, and Sarah told him everything. It didn't take her as long as she had thought it would. It was surprisingly easy, and cathartic, once it all came out. The governor did not nod or move as she talked. When she finished, she took a drink of coffee, and that sufficed as punctuation.

"So," the governor said, "any specifics on who you think might've shot him?"

"Could be anyone," Sarah said. "They really did not like him."

"He was an unlikable prick," he said. The governor yawned again.

"That was the seeming consensus," she said. The governor yawned again.

The governor took out a closed envelope and slid it across the table. Sarah took it, and opened it -- it was her payment, in full.

"Thanks for the help, Ms. Nichols," the governor said. "If I ever need help in the future, I'll keep you in mind."

The governor waved to the pretty older waitress, who came over with a smile.

"How can I help ya?" she said.

"A to-go box for my friend here," the governor said, "and the bighorn breakfast for me."

"Two checks or one?" said the waitress.

"One check. I got it," he said.

The pretty older waitress walked away.

"I guess this is your table now," Sarah said. The governor smiled. He scratched his neck.

"Well, I'm gonna eat breakfast at this charming little diner, and I suspect you don't want to eat breakfast with me. So, I figured I'd save some time."

The pretty older waitress set down the box and the governor ladled all of Sarah's food into it before Sarah could move.

"I thought you'd be more upset."

"About?"

"That everyone knows who killed your brother, and that they're so happy he's dead that they won't cooperate with the police."