Thomas sends a thumbs-up in response, but nothing else. My cell phone doesn’t buzz with a text right away, and thankfully, dispatch radios us, distracting me from waiting for a text that probably won’t come.
2
THOMAS
What a crappy night. I take a deep inhale of air as I pull into the police station to finish up a few things before breakfast. Arson, my K-9 German Shepherd, who I’ve had since he was a year old, is in the backseat, wagging his tail as the station comes into view.
“I know, buddy,” I say to him. “We made it.” My phone dings in the center console with a message from Miles, one of the paramedics on duty last night.
Miles
Hey man, I won’t be able to make it this morning. Lochlan wants to head up to the lake and start our weekend early, but Hannah should be there.
Me
Good deal. Have a great weekend, tell Lochlan I said hi.
I don’t know why I never had Hannah’s number until earlier this morning, but I hope she comes. She doesn’t come out much, unless Miles is there, and I hope she knowswe don’t bite. Yeah, she’s a lot younger than the rest of us, probably about ten years, but I don’t mind that. We’re all adults, and working in a high stress job.
To be honest, I would much rather curl up in my bed right now than go out for breakfast with everyone, but like I said, it was a crappy night, and I think we could all use a little pick-me-up.
I stride into the station with Arson at my side. There isn’t much activity here this early in the morning, and I’m thankful for it. I pull up a chair at a table in the common area, and start filling out the paperwork I know can’t wait. Thirty minutes later, Arson paws at my leg, desperate for his morning meal, and my stomach grumbles in response. I toss a scoop of food in his bowl, and he starts scarfing it down. A look at the clock tells me I have ten minutes until breakfast, which gives me enough time to walk the few blocks down to the diner.
“Morning, Thomas,” Henry greets me as he walks through the door, thermos of coffee in hand. He is one of the detectives we brought on for the drug trafficking case. “I just finished up at the scene from this morning.”
“Anything notable?” I ask, though I have a feeling it’s going to be the same answer as always, no.
He shakes his head somberly. “Nothing.”
I pass him the file folder with my report and information, and he takes it with a nod. “Off for the rest of the day?” he asks.
“Yep. Off to breakfast, then I’m crashing. I’m off for a few days after this.”
“Good for you.”
“Can Arson hang out with you while I’m at breakfast? Judy down at the diner doesn’t like it when I try to convince her to let me bring him in.”
“Hmm, I can’t imagine why,” Henry says with a chuckle. “Of course. I’ll grab his bed and a water bowl from down the hall and he can hang with me.”
“Thanks, man.” I offer him a goodbye, then give my dog a scratch behind the ear. Of course, Arson follows me nearly out the door until Henry calls him back to his office. I hate leaving him behind, but if I try sneaking him into the diner again, Judy’s never going to forgive me.
The sun is starting to rise as I stroll down the cracked cement sidewalk of my hometown. I like to go on walks in the mornings or evenings after my shift anyway, so this will count as my walk. I like to do it as a way to sort of give my brain time to process, or think about things I witnessed or experienced on the shift.
I live in a small town, so I won’t deny that I don’t see nearly as much horrible shit as I might working in a higher population area, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deal with some vile shit. It almost makes it harder when you learn things about a person you’ve known your whole life and it changes the way you look at them.
I reach the diner right on time, and glance around the near-empty room. A few older gentlemen sit at the bar chatting over their coffee, and Judy flits around, getting ready for the morning rush.
I don’t see anyone from the crew in the diner, so I pick a round table big enough for our group, and take a seat. Judy strides over with a menu even though I don’t need it, plopping one in front of me and setting an empty mug in front of me.
“Morning, kiddo,” she greets as she fills the mug with rich smelling coffee. She not so sneakily peeks under the table at my feet. “No Arson this morning?”
“Figured I’d get scolded if I did,” I tell her with a laugh.
“You’d be right,” she snarks. “He’s a good pup, though.”
“That he is.”
“The usual?” Judy asks, not even looking at me. She glances up as the bell above the door chimes and I follow her lead. Hannah walks in, shoving her hands in the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt.
