Polaroid

"Her name is Scarlett. She has only come into the bar once or twice; always orders a Dirty Martini. Why are you asking about her Matson?" she inquired; puzzled as she stared at the Polaroid in Matson's hand.  "Tell me everything you know about her", he demanded. "I told you, Matson, her name is Scarlett. I think she may be from out of town, perhaps New York? She's got a thick Brooklyn accent. Definitely, not from around here." "Do you know anything about the man she is with?" "No, I never really got the chance to speak to him, I can give you his drink order if you would like," she replied sarcastically. "How did you even get that photograph Matson?"

"Jess, I am a detective. I have men all over this city digging where they perhaps shouldn't be." "Is that even legal?" she scoffed. "Jess, a few days ago, I lost one of my best snipers; direct shot to the head," he explained as he took gulps of coffee between large bites of pie. "So what do you need me for Matson?" "I need to know who these people are. They seemed out of place and-" he started. "Of course they do Matson! I told you they are from out of town!" "Jess, please do not get angry with me, I just needed to ask you if you knew anything about them." he pleaded as he stared into her tired eyes. "I'm sorry Matson. It's getting late, I better get going. Thanks for the coffee. Hopefully I was of some help." she replied apologetically. "Sure", he sighed. "Would you like me to walk you out at least?" "No, thank you. Enjoy your coffee and pie Matson," she smiled. "I'll see you around."

As she marched away, Matson couldn't help but wonder what information she was withholding. Did she in fact, know something more about this couple? Through the window, he saw Jess run to her beat up pick-up truck avoiding the impending rain that fell from the dark sky. For a moment she sat, lifeless, until the quiet roar of the engine echoed throughout the parking lot. In her hand she held a cellphone. Who was she calling? he wondered as he dug through his wallet to pull out change and a tip for the waitress. Curiously he watched. The phone call lasted a few seconds before she put the truck into gear and slowly drove away.

Dumbfounded, he fetched his jacket, thanked the waitress, and exited the diner. But as he sat in his vehicle, he couldn't help but wonder, What did she know?

Photography by Dallas Nagata (Pinterest)