Coffee with a Friend?

 I sit and drink my coffee. It's bitter. Not much flavor, even with the cream added. I don't mind though. As long as it does it's job, that's all that matters. Despite the chaos of noise surrounding me (people entering and exiting, the hissing from the steaming milk, the cash register dinging, and the awful music blasting.) I feel more relaxed with each passing sip. I can't help but wonder, are Jeff and I friends? Or did he bring me in to a false sense of security? He does not let me contemplate that matter. "You need to leave me alone." He insists. " I"m afraid I can't do that." Jeff leans in. "You have to stop." "Why would I do that?"  I am completely  flabbergasted  and without words. "I know." He interrupts me. "You want to know what I did with my grandmother, right?" "Yes, what did you do with her?" " I never said I took her, but that's what you think." "Well, you don't exactly seem like an innocent man." Jeff smiles. "I'm sure I don't."  "Why didn't you just go to the police in the first place?" "They weren't right for this job." "Job?" I say in an accusatory fashion. "Fine, case whatever you wan to call it. The point is they weren't right for it?" "And why was I?" "I don't have time for this back and forth nonsense"  Jeff reaches into his jacket pocket and throws a cassette on to the table. "What's that?" I ask. "I've been doing a bit of research of my own. Listen to it." I stare at it for a moment. "This isn't 1995. I don't have a cassette player." "Then go to the store and buy one. They still make them." Jeff gets out of his seat and straightens his coat. "If you still want to keep going, then listen to the tape." Jeff pushes his seat in and turns his back. "Where are you going?" "Back to work."