He got out and removed the branch. As he merged back in the traffic, he saw a small strip mall ahead. He was hungry and also had to plan his exit from Miami. The mall had a hardware store, a 24/7 Diner, a barber shop and a UPS store. There was a space right in front of the Diner where he parked his car. A police patrol car came around and parked next to him. Demond looked at the officer and smiled. The officer nodded in return. It was the same officer that had stopped him. Is he following me, Demond wondered.

Demond went inside. He was greeted by a smiling, young waitress, a brunet wearing a beige uniform and a white apron around her waist. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. The tag on her dress said “Lydia.”

“Good morning. How’s your day going so far? Table for one?”

“Yes, please” Demond said softly, looking away from her without saying anything about how his day was going.

She took him to a booth and handed him a four page menu that had items for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The officer, probably on his break, also followed inside and sat at a counter across from the booth where Owen was sitting.

Demond faced a long counter with revolving stools in front of the cooking station. He could directly see the police officer. A painter with white overalls was sitting in one corner, sipping coffee and chatting with another waitress — a woman who looked older than Lydia.

“These kids think they are grown up and know everything,” the waitress was telling him.

From what he overheard, Demond surmised that her daughter, a senior in high school, wanted to move out and live with her boyfriend. The painter was nodding in agreement.

Demond heard the sizzle from the grill as the short order cook sprayed water and scraped the grill.

“Take your time,” Lydia said, as Demond kept turning the pages from the menu, not sure what he wanted to order. She walked away, but soon returned.

“I just want a glazed doughnut and coffee, please.” He finally said. He gave the menu back to her.

“Will do.”

Lydia took the menu and walked away. The diner was not very busy. An old couple occupied another booth adjacent to Demond. They were eating their breakfast slowly without talking. The man’s hand would shake as he lifted the fork to his lips. His companion just kept looking at him as she sipped coffee from a white mug.