“Is the coffee that good?” she joked.
“Actually, it is.” The guy smiled. “One of the best-kept secrets around. My boss invested in a really good espresso machine, so it’s something you can count on. The locals all know about it. Here. I’ll give you a cup to try for yourself.”
“Interesting. Anybody in that group that’s been enlightening?” He frowned, not quite sure how to answer that question. She shrugged, pointing out the storefront windows. “We’ve had so many accidents out there, we’re just trying to see if anybody around here may have seen something.”
“You should talk to Bill.”
“Who is Bill?” she asked.
“One of the regulars and he sits over in one of those chairs.” He pointed to a couple seats by the big picture window.
“When does he usually come in?”
“Every couple days. I haven’t seen him today yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows. I think he was here yesterday. Yeah, when the police were all here. We were talking about it. He’s the one who told me that it was the second one in just a short time.”
“You didn’t know about that?”
“No, I was off that day.” He shrugged.
“So, you wouldn’t know if he was here when the other accident happened then?”
“No. He’d heard about it for sure, but almost everybody here had. You don’t hear something like that without everybody talking about it.”
“What are you hearing?”
He started to speak, then looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Mostly, like, wondering why the cops aren’t doing something about it.”
She winced at that. “Right. That’s always a topic of interest.”
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?” he asked.
“A detective, but it’s amazing how many people don’t see anything, even though it’s information we need to solve some of these crimes.”
“Right, nobody ever wants to get involved, I suppose. Bill is like that, so, even if you were to talk to him, I don’t know if he’d tell you anything.”
“Why is that?”
“He says, hedoesn’t like no coppers.” The kid shook his head, grinning.
Chuckling, she replied, “Sounds like quite a character.”
“If you could ever convince him to talk, he’d probably have a lot to say.”
“How old is he?”
“Oh, he’s not that old, I suppose. He’s got to be forty.”
Kate stared at the kid behind the counter. “You’re calling forty old? When did that happen?”
“I mean, for here, he is. We see mostly university students, so, as far as our customers go, he is old.”
She’d accept that as an excuse, but still it smarted. But it was more irritating when she realized that younger people, like him, thought life over and done at forty. Old age sets in then. “Did he ever say anything else?”
“Nah. He doesn’t talk a whole lot,” he said.
“Interesting.”
Pointing at her empty plate, he asked, “Want another?”