Poisoned Silence

Don's POV.

I sat across from Detective Lawson in a small diner that smelled like burnt coffee and grease. He had already been nursing a cup of black coffee when I arrived, his coat spread over the back of his chair. His face was hard to read, but I’d known Lawson long enough to tell when he was holding something back.

“Appreciate you meeting me again,” I said, folding my arms on the table. “I need