Lewis combed his fingers through brown locks of Holly’s hair. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

“How is it we’re doing a shit case like this?” she asked. “I don’t even know why that body got to me, I’ve honestly seen worse…” Holly turned to glance up at him.

He edged the chair out with his foot. “Maybe you’re just stressed. You’re always on the go,” as Lewis spoke he caught a glimpse of her eyes, they were bloodshot and her eye shadow was smeared.

Holly exhaled roughly, “Does our victim have a name yet?”

“Didn’t think to ask,” Lewis said.

“I see,” Holly pushed her bistre tendrils out of her face.

The coke and toast were delivered and the moment the waitress was gone Lewis bit a chunk out of the bread and drank a huge hurried set of gulps. “You really ought to try this,” he said through a full mouth.

“It’s garlic bread. I’ve had garlic bread.”

“Nope, Texas Toast,” Lewis shook his head.

“I’m quite capable of reading the menu,” she sighed. “Don’t you find it the least bit odd that this state seems obsessed with including its name in front of foods that already existed? No one else does that sort of thing.”

Lewis took another drink from his soda. “What about: Turkish Coffee, Rocky Mountain Oysters, French Fries and English Muffins—,“ he rambled the list out as if he had prepared it.

“But most of those were—I mean one of them’s just a euphemism—bugger, never mind,” Holly sat in silence and finished her tea as he ate and drank.

“That hit the spot. Sorry for taking so long—I missed breakfast.”

“Don’t suppose we should try and scrap up some evidence, you know do some investigating?” she asked as she stood up and gathered her coat.


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