Here and Gone(47)

She reached over and patted Danny’s hand.

‘Well, you enjoy your meal. Nice talking with you.’

‘You too, Shelley,’ he said, giving her his brightest smile.

She returned it, with interest, and slipped out of the booth.

Before Danny could chew another mouthful of sandwich, a shadow fell over the table. He looked up. Sheriff Whiteside looked down.

‘How you doing today?’ Whiteside asked.

‘Pretty good,’ Danny said. ‘You?’

‘Oh, fair, all things considered. I couldn’t help overhearing your talk with Shelley, there.’

‘She’s a nice lady,’ Danny said.

‘She is, and she’s been rushed off her feet since yesterday. You be sure and leave a decent tip, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ Danny said.

‘Anyway, like I was saying, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. So you’re not with these press folks, then?’

‘No, sir,’ Danny said.

‘See, now, that strikes me as strange.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Whiteside said. ‘Mind if I sit down?’

Danny indicated the seat opposite and said, ‘Please.’

Whiteside slid in next to him, his shoulder against Danny’s. ‘Like I said, it strikes me as strange. I mean, you don’t mind my saying, you clearly aren’t from around here.’

Danny kept his voice low and even. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘Well, I’ll come right out and say it, because I don’t hold with this political correctness nonsense. See, Silver Water is about as lily-white as a town can be. Since the mine closed, there’s not even a single Hispanic within the town boundary. There’s a couple of Mormon families, but that’s about as diverse as it gets around here.’

‘I see,’ Danny said.

‘Do you? Do you see what I’m getting at? So, if you’re not with the press, what are you doing here?’

‘Just passing through,’ Danny said. ‘I heard the coffee was good.’

‘Yeah, the coffee’s good, but that doesn’t really address my concerns. See, Silver Water is kind of an isolated little town. We’re not really on the way to anywhere. Unless you got business here, people don’t tend to pass through. Especially not a gentleman like yourself.’

Danny smiled. ‘Like myself?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘No, I don’t.’

Whiteside scratched his chin. ‘Asian-American. Is that the preferred nomenclature these days?’

‘Chinese is fine,’ Danny said.

‘Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Outer Mongolian, I don’t much give a shit.’ Whiteside leaned in close. ‘My point is, you just happen to be passing through a town that no one ever passes through, and you’re doing it today of all days, with all this going on. You gonna tell me that’s a coincidence?’

Danny held Whiteside’s gaze. ‘I don’t know what else to call it.’

‘Okay, so it’s a coincidence. That’s fine. But if you stick around here much longer than it takes to finish that sandwich, then I’ll be less inclined to see it that way. Do we understand each other?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Danny said. ‘Let me get it straight. You’re telling me that when I’ve eaten my sandwich and drunk my coffee, I have to leave town. Because I don’t look like I belong around here. Is that right?’

Whiteside nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it.’

‘Because I’m not white.’

Whiteside didn’t reply, his gaze sharpening.

‘First of all,’ Danny said, ‘you don’t have it within your power to order me to leave town. Second, I think some of these press people would find it interesting that you told me to leave because of the color of my skin.’

Whiteside stared, his face cut from stone. Then he spoke.

‘Well, I’ve said my piece,’ he said, sliding to the end of the booth. ‘I don’t expect to see you around after you’re done. Let’s just leave it at that.’

The sheriff stood, lifted his hat from the table. Danny spoke as he stepped away.

‘I know what you did,’ he said.

Whiteside stopped and turned. ‘What was that?’

‘You heard me.’

Whiteside wrapped his thick fingers around Danny’s arm. ‘I think you and me ought to go outside and talk a little more.’

Danny smiled at him. ‘No, I think I’ll stay right here and finish my lunch.’

‘Don’t try me, boy.’ Whiteside leaned down, lowered his voice. ‘You push me, I will push back, you better believe it. Now come with me.’

‘Look around,’ Danny said. ‘This place is full of reporters. How many cameras do you count? And out on the street. What do you think you can do, in front of all these people? Now get your fucking hand off me.’

Whiteside’s jaw muscles bunched. He tightened his grip on Danny’s arm, then let go.

‘I’ll be watching you,’ he said. He straightened, put on his hat, and spoke loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. ‘Enjoy the rest of your meal, now. And like I said, make sure you leave a decent tip. Poor Shelley’s been run off her feet.’