Page 124 of The Deadly Shallows

He headed for his front door. “I’m asking you politely to leave.”

She stood, slipped on her coat, and headed for the door. “Thank you for your time.” She handed him a card. “If anything comes to mind that might be helpful, please give me a call.”

“Uh-huh.”

She stepped outside and had barely cleared the door before he swung it shut.

Hector Valdez thought he’d gotten rid of her, but all he’d done was convince her she needed to come back tonight. It was stakeout time.

“Agent Anderson,” Noah said, striding to the booth at their favorite burger joint. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

The man stood to shake his hand. “You must be Agent Rowley. And . . .” He looked over Noah’s shoulder.

“This is Petty Officer Brooke Kesler.”

“Ma’am.” Agent Anderson removed his CGIS navy-and-white ball cap and tipped it at her.

“Brooke, please,” she said.

“And Brett to you both,” he said, waiting until Brooke was settled in the booth before retaking his seat. Noah guessed the retired agent was in his early sixties.

“We appreciate you meeting with us.”

The waitress sidled her way over to the bench, her white apron askew over her pink dress uniform. “I’m Darlene. I’ll be your server today. Can I get you folks started with anything?”

Noah eyed Brett’s slice of pie and coffee. “Brooke, what would you like?”

“I think I’ll have the same as Mr. Anderson,” she said. “That pie looks scrumptious.”

“Chocolate cream,” he said. “My favorite.”

“Make mine the same, please,” Noah said.

Darlene put the pie order in and returned with a pot of coffee. They flipped over the mugs on their table, and she filled them up. “Any cream?” She rustled some cream packets out of her apron pocket.

“None for me,” Brooke said. “But thanks.”

“I take mine black as well,” Noah said.

“Something that never leaves you when you leave the military,” Brett Anderson said.

“How many years did you serve?” Brooke asked.

“Ten in the Guard after college. Another twenty-three in the investigative service.”

“That’s impressive.”

“All in a day’s work.”

“Are you enjoying retirement?” Brooke asked.

He nodded. “A lot more time with my wife, Kim, more time with the grandkids.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled. “But enough about me, I know you wanted to chat about Scott Mirch’s case.” He tapped the rim of his coffee cup. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”

“Same for me,” Brooke said.