Inside, the low ceiling held the smell of stale coffee and floor wax.

Dale was sitting alone at a laminate corner table by the back wall, looking down into a heavy ceramic mug.

His dark blue work jacket was zipped all the way up to his collar.

On the left sleeve, a bright yellow shield patch with a black diagonal stripe and the silhouette of a horse’s head lay flat against the heavy canvas.

“Dale,” I said, putting my truck keys down on the Formica table.