“Protects the country from invasion,” Mac said.
“Or from those within who would take our civil liberties,” Norton replied. “Quite frankly liberals worry me more than Russia ever did.”
Norton looked at his watch. “I’m going off the clock here, and I’m expected for dinner. You staying over?”
Mac nodded. “More tulips,” he said with a laugh. “Can I catch you tomorrow? I’m sure I’ll have more questions.”
“Sure,” Norton said. “You’re more knowledgeable than any reporter I talk to regularly. Say 10 a.m. for breakfast? Mr. T’s is good. Bit of a hole-in-the-wall, but good food.”
“See you then,” Mac said, as he got out and closed the door. Norton nodded and headed into the office.
“Well, that was interesting,” Angie said in a low voice.
Mac snorted. “You think? Let’s find a hotel. I feel like I need a shower after that.”
“And then dinner at some place that serves their well drinks strong,” she agreed, then flushed. “Sorry. Forgot you don’t drink.”
Mac smiled at her. “Means you’ve got a designated driver back to the hotel,” he said lightly. “I’m looking forward to hearing your take on the afternoon.”
She smiled, and looked toward the door Norton had gone through. “After supper but before those drinks? I’d like to find Jorgensen’s wife. And Norton’s ex. And I wonder who has dinner waiting for him tonight?”
“All interesting questions,” Mac agreed. His stomach growled. “Let’s find that hotel and some food. Your dad got another recommendation?”
Chapter 10
Mac usually didn’t spend much money on hotels if he were by himself. But he was traveling on the company dime and with a woman co-worker. And turned out there weren’t many choices during the Tulip Festival. So, he just accepted the hotel Janet had booked them in. But it was nice. It was downtown, one of the old hotels that someone had restored, and he liked it. Liked all the dark wood, even the wallpaper. The shower was a tad small for a man of his size, but he was only going to take a few of them. And he’d be taking them alone. He shrugged and took a shower, got dressed, and went back downstairs to take his photog to dinner.
“You take your work backpack with you even after hours?” Angie asked him when they were seated at Trumpeter Steakhouse.
It was early for dinner, just now turning 5 p.m. which made the sheriff’s hours odd ones. Lots of odd things about that man. Mac smiled, and his dimple showed. He leaned in closer so not to be overheard. “I carry a weapon,” he said softly. “Not something I leave in a hotel room.” Her eyes widened.
He sat back. “Besides, you’re carrying your camera, aren’t you?”
“Don’t go anywhere without a camera,” she agreed, obviously struggling with the fact that he was armed.
They paused in their conversation to place their order. Steaks, his rare, hers medium, fries, salad. Iced tea, hers with sugar. She laughed at his eyeroll. The waitress left.
“Did you have it today with the sheriff?” she asked, obliquely. He nodded.
“Did he know?”
Mac shrugged. “I don’t tell people,” he said. “But if it didn’t occur to him after our talk about guns, I can’t help him being stupid.”
She laughed. “So, is he? Stupid? He lies a lot, but I can’t tell you why or even exactly what was a lie. But he does this little hunch thing with his shoulders when he’s lying.”
Mac looked at her with interest. “A tell? You watch for tells?”
The waitress brought the salads, tea, and a bread basket. Mac took a piece, and tried it. Good, home-made bread. Promising.
“Tells?” he said, after the waitress left.
Angie looked uncomfortable, and then she sighed. “I got into an abusive relationship awhile back,” she said. “One where he convinced me I was at fault. That I should have known he’d want dinner early tonight. Or I should have known he wanted eggs, not bacon. And so, I became hyper-attuned to his every motion, his every gesture, hoping to be able to predict what it was he wanted.”
“And?” Mac said gently.
“And one day he hit me too hard. I ended up in the hospital — not just an out-patient visit for being a clumsy woman either. They had a counselor come by and talk to me. I had one of those aha moments, and when I left the hospital, I didn’t go back to him. I went home to my parents. They took me in, no questions, helped me get counseling. Helped me get my life on track,” she was toying with her silverware, and not looking at him.
“So, you learned to read body language,” he summarized.
She laughed, without humor. “I learned he was lying when he said I should have known xyz. He had a little smirk. Took me awhile to realize he really didn’t care about the eggs vs. bacon, he cared about making me cringe. But when he lied about ‘you should have known’ there would be this little smirk. Most people have some kind of tell when they lie. You spot a lie, that you know is a lie, and you observe their body language. And then you watch for it to repeat. With Norton it’s a slight hunch/turtle thing.”
She demonstrated it: a barely-there hunch, but accompanied by a forward movement of her head. He studied her for a second.
“I don’t want to pry,” he said, quietly. “But I need to know that your ex landed in jail.”
She laughed, and this time there was amusement. “No,” she said. “But I got a restraining order against him. And that was enough. We both worked at the same place, so our bosses had to be told about the restraining order. And they had to schedule us at different times. So not only did they not like the notion he’d been abusive, he was inconvenient. And they fired him. He left the state for his next job. Good enough for me.”
Mac looked at her
