Our regular server, Margie, greets us with two glasses of water and doesn’t even bother to bring us menus. “My boys!” she bellows. “It’s been too long.”
“Hi, Margie,” I greet her with a smile. Margie has served Landon and me lunch or dinner for years. We’d usually come in at least twice a week when we patrolled together. I come less often now that I patrol alone and Landon probably even less, now that he’s a detective.
“The usual, boys?”
“The usual, Margie.” I smile at the aging older woman. She has worked here for as long as I’ve been coming and that’s been well over fifteen years. My dad used to bring my brother and me here after our baseball games.
“So what have you been up to?” Landon asks, sipping his iced tea.
“Honestly, not much of anything. Work, mostly. Picked up a few overtime shifts, hitting the gym—that’s about it. What about you? How’s Reagan?” I don’t bother to tell him I spend a good portion of each night looking into possible transfers to Phoenix or its surrounding suburbs. I haven’t made any calls or any decisions, but I’ve started looking into opportunities.
“Reagan’s great. We honestly haven’t seen each other much lately. She was on call last weekend and spent most of her time at the hospital, and I’ve been working with the feds on that drug bust we had last weekend. Hey, thanks for the tip on that house.”
“I’ve been watching that house for a while. We arrested a guy a couple of weeks ago and I just had a bad feeling about what was going on there.”
“You’ve always had good instincts. You should consider applying for detective. We’ve got a guy leaving narcs; we could use a guy like you,” Landon tries to convince me.
I shake my head. “I like patrol. Always have. I don’t see myself anywhere but here.”
“That’s what I thought too, but I love it.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d assume you’re working your way up the ranks, detective.”
“Nah. This is it. I love narcs too. We’re working a case over at the high school right now—it’s crazy the drugs running through that school.”
“Too many rich kids playing with nose candy on Mom and Dad’s money, huh?” I laugh.
“Nope. Smack. Pure… black tar. We just need to figure out where it’s coming in from. We know our local distributor; we just can’t narrow down where he’s getting it from.”
Margie strolls over with our sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea to top off our drinks.
“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. Most of the guys I pick up aren’t selling; just possession.”
Landon nods his head. “Thanks, man.”
We eat and observe the people coming and going from the sandwich shop. It’s part of the job; we’re always watching everything—observing people and their behaviors. Landon turns sideways in the booth, as he doesn’t like not being able to see what’s going on behind him. He used to do this when we rode patrol together as well.
“So I was thinking,” he says, pausing to take a drink of tea. “We need to start doing poker nights again.”
“Yeah, we kind of let life get in the way of that,” I admit.
“We did. But let’s do it. How about Thursday night, my house? I’ll let Reagan know that a few of you are coming over.”
“Will she care?”
“Nah. She doesn’t mind. Plus she loves to cook for all of us.”
“Think you can tell her no antipasti tray?” We both laugh.
“It’ll be pizza and wings. Trust me.”
“I’m in.”
When I finish my sandwich, I toss a twenty-dollar bill on the table to cover our lunches. We take turns buying lunch and, if memory serves me right, today was my turn.
“Thanks for lunch.” Landon wipes his mouth with a napkin before tossing it onto his empty plate. “Let’s plan for seven o’clock on Thursday. Does that work?”
“What can I bring other than some beer?”
“Nothing, unless Reagan insists on salami and artichoke hearts.” He rolls his eyes. “Then I’ll have you bring the man-food.”
I laugh. “Deal.” Landon’s cellphone rings and he gestures that he needs to take the call.
“See ya Thursday.”
As we exit the café, I notice Melissa, wearing her work scrubs, walking toward me—a smile on her face.
“Hey,” she says as she approaches with a to-go bag in her hand. She stands a little closer than she normally does, and I take a step backwards. I catch Landon watching us out of the corner of my eye. He stands next to his unmarked police car, taking his call.