*
AFTON and Max ended up at Richie’s, a small diner on Fifth Street, a few blocks from their building. Richie’s owner, Richie Novotny, was a former Marine supply sergeant who ran his diner like he was still running things in the Corps. The interior was painted a grim barracks green and the dining area sported bare bones metal tables and chairs. Placards on the wall listed the rules and regulations that Richie’s customers were expected to follow: NO SPITTING. NO SWEARING. NO FIGHTING.
“What kind of place did you bring me to?” Afton asked. “No fighting? Does that mean a fight could actually break out here? And the place is a trifle short on ambience.” Truth be told, it was way short on ambience, bordering on institutional.
“This place is a classic,” Max said. “And Richie’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
Afton wasn’t so sure she wanted to get to know Richie. She’d just spotted another sign that said, NO PEACE SIGNS OR OTHER HIPPY DIPPY CRAP.
“The food’s real good here,” Max said, handing her a menu. “Even though the menu is limited.”
Afton scanned the menu. It offered a basic burger, a cheeseburger, a meatloaf sandwich, pot roast and gravy, macaroni and cheese, and something called chipped beef.
“Chipped beef?” she asked.
Max waved a hand. “It’s a . . . kind of a Marine tradition from way back when.”
“Uh-huh.” At the bottom of the menu, she saw the words JARHEADS EAT FREE—NO EXCEPTIONS. All right, maybe Richie was an okay guy after all.
A waiter in a white T-shirt, white slacks, and a long white apron took their order, and then hustled off toward the clattery kitchen. Richie himself, a behemoth of a man with a barrel chest and a buzz cut, never seemed to budge from his chosen spot behind the cash register.
Max waited until they were both halfway through their macaroni and cheese before he said, “Has this been tough? I mean, being away from your kids so much?”
“It has been this week.”
“I hate to tell you, but this is pretty much the life.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“It’s not for everybody.”
“But it works for you,” Afton said.
“My kids are a little older than yours,” Max said. “Jake will be graduating high school this year and Tyler is fourteen.”
“And they’re both hockey fanatics.”
“Yup. That’s why I’m broke and can’t afford a fancy new car,” he joked. “Our priority is new skates every year, as well as a half dozen new hockey sticks and breezers. I guess that’s the price we pay for living here. It seems like everybody’s kids are into hockey. What about your girls?”
“No hockey, thankfully,” Afton said. “Tess enjoys acting in school plays and playing violin. Poppy is certain she’s going to be the next Taylor Swift. So she sings in front of the mirror all the time. She’ll probably be pretty good if she keeps it up.”
Max paused. “Hell of a thing being a parent and working on a case with a missing baby. I don’t think I could handle it if one of my boys went missing.”
“Not sure I’d be any different,” Afton said. She recalled her moment of panic last night.
“That was good work noticing the name of that missing Iowa baby, by the way.”
“I was just the first one to go through the new faxes.”
“No,” Max said. “Detectives first grade and FBI agents with more experience and formal training might have missed that. I think you could make a good detective. I think Thacker might be on board for that, too.”
“Not sure if I’ve got the right training,” Afton admitted.
“You’ve been taking the criminal justice courses?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’ve got what? A degree in sociology or something?”
“Yup, I finally buckled down and focused on a degree after I got tired of hearing my parents complain about how I was wasting my life as an Outward Bound instructor.”
“Jeez,” Max said. “You were one of those? Does that mean you can start a fire using a compass or lash together a canoe out of pinecones?”
“No, but I can use my watch as a compass and start a fire using a bow drill or flint. I worked up in the BWCA for a couple of years. I love it up there. So gorgeous and peaceful.”
“Is that where you started climbing?” Max asked. He waggled his head back and forth. “One of the guys mentioned you were a rock climber.”
“I started my life on the rocks after going through a program offered by the Minnesota State Parks. There was a class on rock climbing and rappelling up at Tettegouche State Park. That’s where I first caught the bug. Now I do most of my climbing at Taylor’s Falls, but once a year I try to get back up north.” She grinned. “Of course, my dream trip would be El Capitan in Yosemite.”
“Big dreams,” Max said.
“And of course, the rock climbing led to ice climbing, which means you can enjoy the sport all year round.”