Everyone was gathered around the bar with case files in hand, munching on burgers and sipping sodas. By 10 p.m., exhaustion had finally overtaken the group.
JJ stretched, massaging her temples as she set down the stack of files she'd been reading. "Why do I feel like the sheriff here has issued a warrant for just about everyone in town?"
Clive chuckled, placing his own files on the bar. "The worst crime I've found was a sexual assault case where the perp ended up with fractured ribs and internal injuries after his 200-pound victim flipped him over and sat on him. He spent two months in the hospital. Somehow, I doubt a guy like that would still be harboring a grudge against the prosecutor."
"I'm starting to feel like we're in Florida," Jack muttered dryly.
Jubal stood and signaled for everyone to call it a night. "Alright, let's wrap it up. Don't worry too much about the crappy motel rooms. Just try to get some sleep. These case files aren't giving us any leads. Tomorrow, Alice can call the Little Rock office. They announced a tip line on the local news, so maybe we'll get something useful."
The next morning, everyone was up on time. The men gathered in the motel parking lot, chatting as they waited for the women to finish getting ready.
Jack, who only needed a few hours of deep sleep to fully recover, looked fresh. Clive, with his military background, could sleep through almost anything and also appeared rested. In contrast, Aubrey and Jubal both looked worse for wear. The guys had gallantly given the better rooms to the ladies, who now emerged looking radiant.
In small Southern towns, federal agents in suits stuck out like sore thumbs. Everyone in the group, men and women alike, had opted for casual attire—T-shirts and jeans. Only Jubal wore a light jacket, while the others kept their sidearms discreetly hidden under athletic jackets or sweatshirts.
Alice walked over, phone in hand, a bright smile on her face. Despite the ongoing flu season, she seemed to be in great spirits. Her once-chronic insomnia and anxiety were gone, and her healthy glow made her almost unrecognizable compared to her stressed-out days at the New York office.
"I've got news," Alice announced, waving her phone at Jubal. "Half an hour ago, a tip came in on the hotline. An anonymous woman reported that two Latino gang members were bragging about killing the guy who sent their boss to prison."
"Sounds promising," Jubal said, his frown relaxing a little—until he noticed Aubrey openly gawking at Alice like a love-struck teenager. His scowl returned.
"The call came from a restaurant called 'Hal's Sanitary Diner,'" Alice continued as she looked up the address on her phone.
Jack smirked and gave Aubrey a nudge. While he didn't mind a second office romance in the group, he didn't want things to get messy. Relationships could provide some distraction from all the workplace gossip aimed at him, but breakups would only create awkward tension. For now, the team's dynamic was good, and Jack intended to keep it that way.
"Sounds like the perfect spot for breakfast," Jack said, jingling his car keys. "Let's hope the place lives up to its name. I'm starving."
"This town's so small, nothing's far away," Alice said, holding up her phone. Her raised brow and subtle, confident smile carried an understated elegance that once again left Aubrey momentarily dazed.
"Twenty bucks says you want to switch cars and ride with Alice," Hannah teased quietly, sidling up to Aubrey with a mischievous grin.
"Uh… what?" Aubrey blinked, only to notice Jubal glaring at him. Realizing he was being watched, he sheepishly scurried off to another SUV, earning a round of amused glances from the team.
"Let's go," JJ said, pulling Alice into the SUV with Jack. The brief interruption ended as the convoy headed out. As Alice had said, it only took 20 minutes to reach their destination.
Hal's Sanitary Diner was typical of roadside eateries, situated in a small L-shaped row of buildings at a three-way intersection. It shared its structure with a neighboring convenience store. The restaurant's red-and-white metal sign, mounted high on the roof, was old but well-maintained.
Jack opened the door, and a small brass bell jingled overhead. The smell of coffee and fried food wafted out as a plump waitress at the counter glanced up from pouring coffee. Her gaze lingered on the group of seven as they entered.
Though the team's casual attire helped them blend in, their good looks and composed presence still drew attention. Most of the diner's tables were occupied by locals enjoying breakfast. Conversations paused as curious eyes turned toward the newcomers.
Jack, ever the charmer, flashed a bright smile, revealing eight perfectly white teeth. He gave the waitress a friendly nod. "Morning. Could you help us find a quiet spot where we can chat?"
The waitress blinked, momentarily flustered by his charisma. After a brief pause, she pointed to a corner of the diner. "Sure, there's a spot over there. I just cleaned it. You can push the tables together."
"Thanks. We'll handle it," Jack said, taking the menu she instinctively handed him. He maintained his smile as he added, "By the way, could you tell us about your house specialties?"
"Our biscuits and gravy are the best in Forrest," the waitress replied eagerly, following the group. "My husband—Hal—makes the gravy from a special recipe with pepper and Mexican tomatoes."
Biscuits and gravy, a staple of Southern cuisine, were a type of soft, flaky bread roll similar to British scones. Served with a rich sausage gravy, this hearty breakfast originated in the post-Revolutionary War South, where plantation workers needed high-calorie, affordable meals to fuel a long day of labor.
Today, variations of biscuits and gravy could be found across the U.S., but the Southern version was the most authentic. It was an essential taste for anyone visiting the region.
"Alright, bring us a round of biscuits and gravy. And coffee. Lots of coffee," Jack said, gesturing to the rest of the group. "We're all starving. The rest can order at their own pace."
The waitress happily set about pushing the tables together before hurrying to the kitchen. The group exchanged amused looks at Jack's smooth performance.
Jubal quietly shook his head. "Show-off," he muttered under his breath, though the hint of a smile betrayed his good humor.
(End of Chapter)
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