Chapter 2

So Errol's stay in the little town of Polk was starting off very nicely indeed. Less than twenty-four hours after crossing the city limits, he had a place to live, a decent job, and he'd met some nice people. Sometimes things just went your way.

And even working both jobs, he was still going to have plenty of time to himself to explore the town and the surrounding territory. He had no agenda; he just planned to poke around here and there to get the lay of the land. There was probably a municipal library where he could check out some books. He still had three unread books downloaded onto his MacBook, but he actually preferred holding real books in his hands when he was lost in a story.

On his second night in town, he leaned back against a stack of pillows (two of which he borrowed from the utility room) and aimed the remote at the TV to see what was on. It turned out to be the exact same crap that was on every TV in every other town, so he turned it off. Instead, he plugged his ear buds into his computer, selected an album of soft rock from his collection, and started the new novel he'd downloaded a few days earlier, Steven King's "Mr. Mercedes".

He was wishing the motel had an Internet connection, but it didn't. He would like to have done a little web search to see if there was anything about a death in the news from the city he'd just left; and if there was, if they were looking for anyone in particular. The library would surely be connected, and he made a mental note to check it out when he had some free time.

He was snuggled into the pillows feeling very comfortable in sweatpants, warm socks and a T-shirt, and he'd just finished the first chapter in the book when there was a knock on his door. Of course, the first thing that crossed his paranoid mind was the police, but he managed to suppress his fear. He took out his ear buds and laid the MacBook aside. When he opened the door, he was relieved to see Jennie standing there.

"Hi, Errol!"

"Hi, Jennie. What's up?"

She looked a little stressed. "Um, I really hate to ask this of you, but Al started feeling sick about an hour ago and now he's having some pain in his chest. I called his son and he's coming to pick him up to take him over to the hospital. I came to ask if you could finish out the evening shift for him. I mean, I could do it, but Valerie didn't come in today and that means I'd be there by myself. So, could you? Please?"

"Of course I can! Just give me a minute to get dressed and I'll be right over. Jeez, I hope Al's okay. Does he have a bad heart or something?"

"Well, I wasn't aware that he did, but he is getting old and he's been a heavy smoker all his life. You can't get away with that forever."

"I'm sure you're right about that. Well, you head on back and I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"Thanks so much, Errol. I really owe you one."

"Happy to help."

When he got to the diner, there were about a dozen customers scattered about. Al was sitting hunched over in a booth looking like death warmed over, and there was a middle-aged man kneeling next to him, presumably the son. Al was leaning forward, obviously struggling to breathe.

Errol asked, "Is there an ambulance on the way? He definitely needs oxygen."

The son looked up and asked, "Are you a medic of some kind?"

"No, but I know enough to see that Al needs help now."

"Yes, I think you're right. The problem is that the ambulance is about thirty miles off and they're not known for being especially fast. Could you help me get Dad into my car? The hospital's only a couple of miles away and I can have him there in ten minutes."

"Of course. You get the doors and I'll carry him out to your car." Turning to Jennie, he asked, "Could you call the hospital and tell them he's on the way? A town this size, I figure they'll probably have to call in a doctor."

"You're right," she agreed. "Good thinking!"

Al complained through his shallow, rapid gasps, "Godammit, I can ... walk! Ya don't need ... t' be carryin' me like ... a damn baby!"

"Like hell you can walk," Errol said, "You can hardly breathe!"

He shoved his hands under Al's knees and scooped him up while the son held the door open. The old man couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and twenty pounds. They got him into the passenger seat and on the way to the hospital. Errol watched them as the car sped off and turned the corner, then he headed back inside.

He grabbed a clean apron from under the counter and stepped through the swinging doors into the kitchen. "How many orders do we have backed up?"

"Just four or five," Jennie said, "Nobody's been complaining."

"Good! Let's get to it."

It wasn't an especially busy night, but it was clear that Jennie would have really been up against it if she'd been by herself. The last customers left around ten, and Errol quickly locked the door behind them as Jennie turned off most of the inside lights and the outside sign.

As he turned off the burners under the griddle, he said, "Lady, you do keep some long hours!"

"Yeah, well that's the cost of owning a business. You don't get to call in sick."

Errol agreed, "I guess you're right about that. I'll get the place cleaned up right away so you can get home and grab some sleep. What happened to Valerie?"

"Who knows? She called and said she wasn't feeling too hot, but she's probably out with her friends. She's a sweet girl but a little bit light in the responsibility department. If I could find another girl, I'd replace her."