No Quit

Chapter 2

The tired looking policeman flipped his notebook closed and adjusted his rump on the counter stool. He took off his hat and set it on the counter, wiping his damp forehead with his sleeve. "Damn it's hot. We'll have to wait for the boys from homicide, they're gonna want to ask you the same questions again."

"They'll get the same answers," Ted said. "Everything I can tell you is already in your little book there."

"Procedure." The policeman didn't offer anything more, instead he looked back over the counter at the pie case and sighed. "Always got a good chunk of pie from Nadine. We're really gonna miss her."

"So instead of sitting here, wouldn't it be smarter to go after the punk that did this?"

Weary eyes slid over Ted's face and spent a little time assessing. "My partner put out your vehicle description, such as it was. Isn't but one road runs west, unless you want to tackle the back roads and there isn't much to want on them."

"Maybe they turned around and went east." Ted offered. His faith in the policeman's theory was thin.

"You know, partner, I think if I was you I'd worry more about my own involvement in this."

"What, you mean sitting here eating pie and getting robbed and having a woman shot dead in front of me and my books tossed all over the place?"

The policeman glanced at the few books on the floor. "Soon as they dust 'em you can have 'em back." The most important part of Ted's retort seemed to be his books and the policeman bent over and read the title of one. "So what are you then, a teacher or something?"

"Nope." Ted looked at the officer and waited for the next inevitable question, surprised when he seemed to take a different tack.

"Mystery man. Huh. Well, people's business is mostly theirs I suppose. The homicide guys won't settle for that though. That book, it's all about politics and climate and stuff. What's that about?"

"I'm doing research for a novel. I'm a writer... or at least I'm trying to be."

"Published anything?"

"Nope. Gathering stuff for my first attempt."

The policeman slid off the stool as a large sedan braked to another dust raising halt in front of the diner, and wandered to the door. "Well you got some material now, don't you."

"Not what I was hoping to write about," Ted answered as the cop pushed out through the squeaking door and let it slam behind him.

The two homicide detectives arrived both wearing the same jaded expressions and went over the same ground only concentrating a little more on where, why and what he was planning when he left his bus and got off at the diner.

"So, Edward Wagner. What made you stop here? It's not the sort of place most travelers head for." The shorter of the two seemed to be the lead and Ted shifted on his stool to answer him directly. The other one directed a third man to start dusting the booth, the register and the books for prints.

"I was just tired of riding the bus and it looked quiet. I was hungry too." The detective looked at the unfinished pie and cold coffee. "Lost my appetite."

"Where are you going from here... and how?"

"No place special. Like I told the cop outside, I'm just doing some atmosphere research for a book I'm hoping to write."

"Atmosphere."

"Yeah, scenery, climate... the feeling of this type of country... you know. The people. Their work."

"Got yourself some atmosphere here didn't you."

"The cop outside said the same thing. Is it a script you all follow?"