Our man in the suit promptly glanced down at his watch.
“And you just happened to notice this while we were sitting here talking?”
“Yes.”
A pause. I took a bite of my cheeseburger. It really was good.
“But you said he knows her well. What tells you that?”
I swallowed, wiped some ketchup from my chin. “Remember the coffee on the table?”
“Yeah, he ordered it for her. So what?”
“You typically wouldn’t order coffee for someone you’re meeting for the first time and he knew she took cream and added it. You wouldn’t do that unless you’re expecting someone momentarily.”
“Cools it too quickly.”
“From what I hear, yes. And you don’t add cream to a woman’s coffee unless you know her well—it’s a bit of an intimate act. People are pretty protective about their coffee and what they put into it to…calm it. So he has—”
“A close relationship with her and he expected her right away.”
“So it seems.”
“And the Ford Explorer…Let me guess, his keys there next to the newspaper. You saw the vehicle parked out front when we came in. Guessed it was his?”
“Didn’t have to guess. You can tell by the key fob that he’s driving a rental. The Explorer out front has Maine plates and an Enterprise agreement form lying on the passenger seat.”
He blinked. “You saw that when we passed by?”
“Yes. He’s tanned; it’s November in Wisconsin.”
“And in Maine. So he’s not from either state.”
I shrugged. “Can’t tell for sure, but it helps give context.”
“And why’s he about to get a ticket?”
“Parking is strictly enforced in the blocks surrounding police headquarters.”
“Okay, I get that.” We both ate for a moment, then he stopped and lowered his heaping spoonful of goulash. “You said he had fish and chips and a Pepsi. There’s an empty tartar sauce packet on his plate, that’s easy enough. And now that I think about it, the menu lists only Pepsi products and there’s a little dark-colored pop left in his glass, so—”
“Soda.”
“What?”
“We don’t call it pop here; that’s more of a Michigan deal. We call it soda. You should also know we call drinking fountains ‘bubblers.’”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. It’s a Milwaukee thing. And yes, Pepsi is the only dark-colored soda being served today. Nowhere near as good as Cherry Coke.”
“You still haven’t explained how you know he isn’t a big tipper.”
“The cost of that meal, drink, and a coffee plus tax compared to the bills he set on the table. Only an eight percent tip.”
Ralph examined the man’s table once again, this time even more closely. “But there aren’t any bills there.”
“His server already picked them up.”
He looked at me incredulously. “You’re saying she came by before I even asked you to prove that you notice things?”
“Yes.
“And you calculated all that then—the tip, everything?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know any of that would be pertinent to anything?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how—”
I notice things.
I shrugged. “Luck, I guess.”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to reply, then closed it again and chose to go for some beef goulash instead.
Moving past the topic of the guy at the table and following along with our discussion from earlier, I asked Ralph what he did before joining the FBI.
“I was in the Army for a while. Rangers. Bunch of missions in the Middle East.” He was wolfing down his goulash in between words. “Man, I can’t believe you counted up what bills he laid on the table.”
Earlier, he’d referred to a guy watching a chick flick with his wife, and he wore a wedding ring. “So, married?”
“Yeah. Three years.”
“Kids?”
“No. You?”
“No kids, no wife. I am seeing someone though. Actually, today is the one-year anniversary of when we first met.”
He raised his coffee cup. “In that case, lunch is on me.”
I thought again about how I would be having
“And you just happened to notice this while we were sitting here talking?”
“Yes.”
A pause. I took a bite of my cheeseburger. It really was good.
“But you said he knows her well. What tells you that?”
I swallowed, wiped some ketchup from my chin. “Remember the coffee on the table?”
“Yeah, he ordered it for her. So what?”
“You typically wouldn’t order coffee for someone you’re meeting for the first time and he knew she took cream and added it. You wouldn’t do that unless you’re expecting someone momentarily.”
“Cools it too quickly.”
“From what I hear, yes. And you don’t add cream to a woman’s coffee unless you know her well—it’s a bit of an intimate act. People are pretty protective about their coffee and what they put into it to…calm it. So he has—”
“A close relationship with her and he expected her right away.”
“So it seems.”
“And the Ford Explorer…Let me guess, his keys there next to the newspaper. You saw the vehicle parked out front when we came in. Guessed it was his?”
“Didn’t have to guess. You can tell by the key fob that he’s driving a rental. The Explorer out front has Maine plates and an Enterprise agreement form lying on the passenger seat.”
He blinked. “You saw that when we passed by?”
“Yes. He’s tanned; it’s November in Wisconsin.”
“And in Maine. So he’s not from either state.”
I shrugged. “Can’t tell for sure, but it helps give context.”
“And why’s he about to get a ticket?”
“Parking is strictly enforced in the blocks surrounding police headquarters.”
“Okay, I get that.” We both ate for a moment, then he stopped and lowered his heaping spoonful of goulash. “You said he had fish and chips and a Pepsi. There’s an empty tartar sauce packet on his plate, that’s easy enough. And now that I think about it, the menu lists only Pepsi products and there’s a little dark-colored pop left in his glass, so—”
“Soda.”
“What?”
“We don’t call it pop here; that’s more of a Michigan deal. We call it soda. You should also know we call drinking fountains ‘bubblers.’”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. It’s a Milwaukee thing. And yes, Pepsi is the only dark-colored soda being served today. Nowhere near as good as Cherry Coke.”
“You still haven’t explained how you know he isn’t a big tipper.”
“The cost of that meal, drink, and a coffee plus tax compared to the bills he set on the table. Only an eight percent tip.”
Ralph examined the man’s table once again, this time even more closely. “But there aren’t any bills there.”
“His server already picked them up.”
He looked at me incredulously. “You’re saying she came by before I even asked you to prove that you notice things?”
“Yes.
“And you calculated all that then—the tip, everything?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know any of that would be pertinent to anything?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how—”
I notice things.
I shrugged. “Luck, I guess.”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to reply, then closed it again and chose to go for some beef goulash instead.
Moving past the topic of the guy at the table and following along with our discussion from earlier, I asked Ralph what he did before joining the FBI.
“I was in the Army for a while. Rangers. Bunch of missions in the Middle East.” He was wolfing down his goulash in between words. “Man, I can’t believe you counted up what bills he laid on the table.”
Earlier, he’d referred to a guy watching a chick flick with his wife, and he wore a wedding ring. “So, married?”
“Yeah. Three years.”
“Kids?”
“No. You?”
“No kids, no wife. I am seeing someone though. Actually, today is the one-year anniversary of when we first met.”
He raised his coffee cup. “In that case, lunch is on me.”
I thought again about how I would be having
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