The shift was instant.
Hutchkins's jaw tightened.
His shoulders squared.
The friendly mask cracked slightly.
"I'm asking because I'm asking. That a problem?"
"No problem," Malcolm said evenly. "We're not staying anywhere. Just came in for food."
"Right."
Hutchkins pulled a small notepad from his belt and clicked a pen.
"I'm going to need to see some ID."
Malcolm didn't move.
"For eating pancakes?"
"For being in my county," Hutchkins said.
Not loud.
Not quiet.
Flat.
Matter-of-fact.
Like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
Deputy Lacader shifted his weight behind him.
His eyes moved between the booth and the floor.
He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
Malcolm reached into his jacket.
Slowly.
Visibly.
Two fingers.
He pulled out his wallet and slid his driver's license across the table.
Out of state.
Clean.
Current.
Terrence did the same.
Hutchkins picked up both IDs like they were evidence from a crime scene.
He held Malcolm's up to the light.
Squinted.
Turned it over.
Ran his thumb across the surface as though checking for a forgery.
"Lacader," he said without looking back. "Run these."
The deputy stepped forward, took the IDs, then walked toward the door and keyed his radio.
His voice crackled low as he called the information to dispatch.
The diner stayed quiet.
Every person in the room was watching now while pretending not to watch.
Eyes on plates.
Ears wide open.
Malcolm's pancakes were getting cold.
He didn't touch them.
Hutchkins stood there with his arms crossed, staring down at them like he was waiting for one of them to blink first.
30 seconds passed.
Then 40.
The dispatcher's voice came back through Lacader's radio, distant and metallic.
Malcolm couldn't make out every word.
He didn't need to.
Lacader's face showed no surprise.
Clean return.
Lacader walked back and handed the IDs to Hutchkins.
"Both clear. No wants, no warrants."
Hutchkins didn't move.
Didn't hand the IDs back.
A clean return should have ended the encounter.
No warrants.
No holds.
No reason to continue.
Hand back the IDs.
Have a nice day.
Walk away.
Hutchkins did not walk away.
He set the licenses on the table but left them just out of reach.
Then he leaned down until his face was almost level with theirs.
"We've had some break-ins around here lately," he said quietly. "Two guys matching your general description."
Malcolm didn't blink.
"What description is that?"
Hutchkins smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
The kind that didn't reach his eyes.
"You know what description."
Terrence's hand tightened around his fork.
Malcolm saw it.
Saw his knuckles turn pale.
Saw the muscle jump in his jaw.
"So here's what's going to happen," Hutchkins said.
He straightened.
Raised his voice enough for the entire diner to hear.
"You two are going to step outside with me for a minute so we can sort this out. Just a few questions. Shouldn't take long."
"Sort what out?" Malcolm asked. "You just ran our IDs. We're clean."
"That's what the computer says. I'm not so sure."
Hutchkins tapped the table twice with one knuckle.
Sharp.
"Outside. Now."