Chapter 6 - The Couple in the Next Booth
I went home only long enough to feed my cat and find a shirt without a coffee stain. Mrs. Finch was waiting outside my building beside her husband, both holding paper cups they hadn't touched.
I recognized them immediately: the elderly couple from the next booth. The people whose imagined judgment had mattered more to me than Leo's terror.
"We won't stay," Mrs. Finch said. "But you need to know what we saw."
"I know what you saw." Shame made me sharp. "You saw a terrible mother."
"No, dear. I saw a little boy in trouble. I was pointing to his throat. You thought I was pointing at you."
She was a retired respiratory therapist. She knew the difference between screaming and trying to scream. Her husband, Walter, had been filming a birthday candle across the aisle when the plate crashed. His phone caught Jax stepping into our booth.
"We didn't put it online," Walter said. "We gave a copy to the police. But I'm worried someone else did something to the restaurant cameras."
He played his clip for me. I watched myself swat Leo's wrist. I watched Jax move me aside and support my son. The angle was wide enough to show his hand between Leo's chest and the table, not driving Leo into it.
Then the camera swung toward the counter. Dorsey was lifting a big glass jar of red plastic stars and passing it to his manager, Malcolm. Both glanced toward the commotion before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Why hide those?" I whispered.
"That's what bothered us," Mrs. Finch said.
I asked Walter to send me the original file. He hesitated, not because he doubted me, but because I could see he was scared of where this was going.
"My husband says we're too old for trouble," Mrs. Finch said. "I told him trouble doesn't check your birth certificate."
Walter smiled weakly and pressed Send.
As they turned away, his phone rang. The number on the screen said SUNSET MILE DINER.
May you like
Walter answered. The voice was loud enough for us all to hear.
"Mr. Finch? You've got something that belongs to us."
