“Something with everything doesn’t feel right.”

 With this the detective pulled the car into a bank. There was a sign in the door that said be back in thirty minutes. 

In the parking lot there was one other car, a grey one with spots of rust and a man inside....

"No way, no fucking way."

Jerry stood in front of Elena and the computer.

"I gave you some time off with all the stuff thats been going on, I tried to talk to you about it, but I can't I can't let you look up people's addresses. I mean you have no...

The only person at  Bloomingfoods who enjoyed listening to Stephen was Marc.

Now he was gone. Nobody was there to listen to Stephen. But the funny thing was... Stephen wasn't talking anymore. Said no more than the average customer. Paid. Left.

Another funny thing. He had stopped coming in as much as...

"Here you go. Todays special."

During this time his hands were un-bound, but not his legs. Marc's wrist always hurt, carpal tunnel or something from long ago. He ate hurriedly, but cautiously, still worried from the first times.

"How long has it been?" 

"A few weeks now, maybe more, whose to say,...

Elena did nothing but work and work on the case after that.

In fact, even a work she would perform her duties mindlessly. Her brain was thinking about the case. 

She had more than a binder now. Needed a place to herself. Decided to move out. Candace didn't understand. She understood...

"Maybe people won't notice that I'm missing. After all... how often does a customer need to come to be considered a regular?"

Marc said nothing.

"Come on. Take a guess."

"I don't know. Once a week?"

"I didn't come in for a full three weeks last year. I broke my leg and stayed in...

The phone burned a hole in her jacket pocket. The morning coffee didn't hit as usual. Instead of feeling relaxed, she felt like a kid playing hot potato. Marc wouldn't come into  Bloomingfoods until 10. She'd have to keep the phone in her pocket until then.

Her jacket was of course...

Marc didn't like most of the things at  Bloomingfoods . Kombucha not for him. Sandwiches he brought his own. The only thing Marc liked was the coffee. He didn't know why, for a long time he was a tea guy, but since the first time he got a cup he'd...

"Excuse me, miss."

Damn Elena thought. The  podcast was getting to an interesting point. She would need to resume a few minutes before. To get the whole thing setup again. You couldn't just stop and resume at the same spot. Conversations built up to a crescendo. Climaxed.

But she was at work....

It was a cold morning. Elena's skin was pricked cold during her walk to work. It wasn't a cold that chilled to the bone. The wind was like ice; the cold stayed mostly confined to the surface.

The cold had arrived sooner than expected. She had not worn her wool...

Outside the air was crisp, it was winter after all. 

But this surprised Marc. 

The students were out, a seasonal boost to the population. They were in pairs or groups swaying and laughing. 

Marc Love. He thought. 

"Marc Love" He said out loud. 

"What was that?" A man was sort...

"What you gunna do next? Like after here?"
One of the regulars asked Marc, he was curious, but also often asked Marc questions that he didn't answer. Probing, direct.

The guy told him once, "My family says I'm too honest, other people just call me a Dick." Then he erupted with...

You could give a lot of coffees on the house at  Bloomingfoods . They made  coffee in those large self serve serve containers that customers poured using a spigot. The office tracked how many containers were made and how many cups were purchased. but because employees go to drink coffee...

Two months later there was snow. It was  Christmas Eve . Marc Love was still in  Bloomington, IN . Now with a job.  Bloomingfoods . The west location near downtown. Right by City Hall.

He had become friends with Kevin the deli guy. And Brock working the drinks.

On Thanksgiving he had...

The breeze of the evening rustled the branches. The shadows danced across the concrete sidewalk and the grass. Love walked with a cigarette in his hand. A cigar he had smoked earlier. But for a walk... he preferred a cigarette. Something about a  cigar warranted that he be seated. A...