Jeremy fell back into his seat and bit his lip. "Sorry. I got freaked out."
He stared at his lap, wringing his hands under the table. He didn't talk much after that.
——
"So I assume your date didn't go very well?" Fritz asked offhandedly.
You raised an eyebrow and asked Fritz what Jeremy had told him.
Fritz crossed his arms in front of him. "Well, Jeremy told me that it went terrible." He widened his eyes. "Did it?"
You tilted back in your seat and crossed your arms. You were confused. The date went fine.
"Not terrible because of you, of course." Fritz pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of this nose. "Jeremy said that he did something idiotic near the end and messed everything up. You hate him now."
You countered that statement, bemused. You didn't hate Jeremy.
Fritz held up his hands. "His words, not mine." He tilted his body closer to you. "So, what did Jeremy do?" He grinned.
You scratched your face, unsure if you should reveal the "intimate details" of your date.
"Awww, come on." Fritz feigned an upset expression. "I wasn't supposed to tell you about what Jeremy said to me about the date, yet here we are! Because we're such great friends." He smiled again. "Tell me!"
You kept it simple, telling him that Jeremy tried to kiss you. ...And kind of ended up only half kissing you.
Fritz laughed. "How does that work?"
You shrugged.
"Huh. Well, I blame his social ineptitude."
You thought that made sense.
"SMITH!"
Fritz jumped in his seat and whipped around the face the source of the yell.
It was his boss, who appeared to be very irritated with him. "What are you doing? You're not on break."
Fritz turned pink and pulled at his shirt. "Sorry, sir," he said sheepishly.
He stood up from the table. "Talk to you later," he whispered in your direction.
He turned away and made his way to the employees room, his boss following every movement with his eyes.
You checked your watch. It was about time you went back to your own workplace. Your lunch break was basically over. Fortunately, your boss was a lot more lax.
You make a short jaunt over to the pizza place and decide to go in through the back, as to not draw attention to yourself. The absolute first thing you see is Mike interrogating some poor guy near the dumpsters. Of course this is what you would see. What else?
The guy was gripping a bulging garbage bag in both hands. "Look, why would I cover for a supposed child murderer? I don't even know the dude outside of work," he told Mike, irritated.
Mike crossed his arms and bent forward in a way that definitely intruded on the trash guy's space. "That's exactly what someone who was covering for a child murder would say." He squinted.
Trash Guy rolled his eyes and turned away from Mike to toss the garbage bag into the open dumpster.
Mike poked his head beside Trash Guy's. "What are you doing? Hiding your guilty expression?"
"Oh, my God." Trash Guy swung around exaggeratedly. He stared Mike in the eye and poked him in the chest. "No." He raised his eyebrows. "Now fuck off, alright? I need to get back to work."
He pushed past Mike and reached for the back door handle.
"Were you threatened? Did Vincent hurt you?" Mike called after him. "You can tell me, it's okay!"
Trash Guy ignored Mike and pushed the door open, stepping inside.
Mike was very conflicted. It showed on his face. On one hand, he wanted to grab Trash Guy and pull him back, but on the other hand, he would get reported for workplace harassment. He settled for following Chris inside. You followed suit, mostly because it's where you headed anyway, but also because you wanted to know what Mike would say next.
You closed the door quietly behind you and stood in the doorway.
"Yo, can you just drop it?" Trash Guy asked Mike without even turning around. He sounded angry now.
"Come on! There's no way this is the whole story! Witness alibis aren't always airtight!" Mike paused, deciding to take a shot in the dark. "Did Boss do something to cover this up?"
Trash Guy finally faced him. "That's classified information." He caught your eye. "Hey, (Y/N,)" he greeted lethargically.
You felt bad, because you had absolutely no idea who he was. You waved anyway.
Mike's head rotated back to you. "Oh hey, (Y/N.)" He motioned towards you, and then Trash Guy. "(Y/N,) meet Chris. The guy I mentioned, remember?" He then did the reverse. "Chris, meet (Y/N.)"
Chris stepped closer to you and offered his hand, annoyed expression evaporated before your eyes. "Hi. We haven't met before."
You accepted his hand and asked how he knew your name.
"You're the ex-night guard, I know that much. Everybody knows the name of the night guard." He faced Mike again and his annoyance was back. "Mind telling me why you were mentioning me to her?"
You took your hand back, because Chris was still holding it and it kind of hurt.
"Everybody mentions everybody to everybody, guy." Mike waved a hand dismissively. "It's not like I was telling her all of your deepest secrets."
"Exactly which deep secrets of mine do you know and believe you are at liberty to share?"
"It doesn't matter. I know I hit something when I made the comment about Boss!" Mike grinned.
Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look. If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"
"Yes!" Mike exclaimed. "Until I need more information, that is."
Chris didn't seem excited at the prospect, but it was good enough for him. "Yes, Boss paid the police a fine sum of money to just take my word and close the case. He didn't want to deal with any of it." Chris readjusted his weight to one foot. "Are you happy?"
"But... that makes no sense!" Mike said, exasperated. "Why would Boss want to keep the case a mystery, worrying customers, rather than just put the blame on someone— murderer or not— to put peoples minds to rest?"
"You're a detective now, huh? Consider this: Boss doesn't want people to think he accidentally hired a murderer to work at his food chain. Especially a 'murderer' who is actually innocent."
Mike raised a fist in the air. "Like hell he is! And like hell Boss has morals!" The fist produced a finger to point at Chris. "I'm on to you, scoundrel! You're lying about Vincent, and you're lying about Boss's reasoning! Boss must have some sort of personal connection to him! Why else would he cover his back?"
Chris slouched. "Whatever you say, psycho." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just leave me out of it. I'm only a janitor."
"That's exactly what a criminal would say! Come, (Y/N,) as we have much to discuss!"
And so Chris witnessed you being dragged away against your will to the back room, and didn't do anything about it, either.
(A/N: good news! I have internet. The least I could do is post a new chapter.
Oh— and thank you all for 1k reads!)