Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“But why didn’t she ask for money?” Brandon asks suddenly, his ever-practical mind reliving our shared experience last night a little differently from me. “Why did she just waltz off like that?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. That is a little weird.”
Brandon shakes his head.
“A little weird? Fucking incomprehensible is more like it.” Brandon frowns, the gesture making a little crease down the center of his forehead.
“Yeah I get it, but it’s too late to ask now, isn’t it?” I look out the break-room window once more and grimace. “Shit, Josh just walked in.”
Brandon rolls his eyes, sharing my disdain for our obnoxious colleague who loves to get into everyone else’s business. I thought only women were busybodies, but clearly, that’s a sexist notion that’s been blown to smithereens by Josh Brownback, who could out-maneuver any curious granny.
“Let’s get back before he starts asking too many questions,” Brandon suggests. Immediately, we leave the room and head to our desks. I dive into a stack of files, pretending to be busy with work with no time to engage in small talk with colleagues.
Unfortunately, my attempt at looking busy doesn’t deter Josh.
“Morning gents,” the huge, shaggy-haired man says too brightly. “Boy, you two sure are the early birds today.” His voice is curiously high for someone so huge, and it carries across the precinct. I wince at the volume.
Then I glance up and smile vaguely, as if preoccupied. “Hi Josh. Sorry man, we have a lot to get done today,” I say without ceremony.
But Josh, ever the office dummy, doesn’t pick up on the subtle hint to leave me the hell alone.
“So tell me all about the big bust, guys!” Josh squawks before leaning against my desk. The flimsy metal frame creaks. Across from me, Brandon glares but stays silent. It seems I’ll have to handle the obnoxious man on my own.
I shrug in answer to his question, deciding to stay vague.
“It was a quiet night overall, especially for a Wednesday,” I tell him. “We got one john, but that’s all.”
Josh tilts his head to a side, his eyes searching my face for something more.
“Rumor has it the comms went bust.” He’s probing, I realize, irked by his pestering.
“They did,” I confirm blandly. “For about an hour. But like I said, there was nothing too crazy going on anyway. Comms wouldn’t have caught anything.”
Josh pauses for a moment.
“But only one john?” he asks, his voice a bit whiny. “I heard there was quite a dust-up at the Rodeo Ranch. I would have thought more guys would have been eager to take out their frustrations inside a hooker.” I flinch at his crassness but say nothing. Nothing about Rodeo Ranch surprises me these days. That place is just getting sleazier and sleazier with its lax policies around alcohol and fake IDs.
But our colleague continues to pry. “I guess I’m just surprised that you guys didn’t see more action down in the park. I mean, it being a moonlit night and all.”
I squint at him.
“Because the werewolves come out when there’s a full moon?” I ask sarcastically. “Or the witches?”
Josh is about to reply, but my brother cuts in.
“Bro, we’ve got a lot of paperwork to get done,” Brandon interrupts. “Let’s discuss this another time, okay?” His tone is sharp and authoritative, clearly conveying that he’s ready to be done with Josh’s disruptive questioning.
Josh glances back at my brother, looking a little scared of him, despite his huge size. Then the shaggy man lets out a dramatic sigh.
“Sure, no problem.” Our colleague stands up quickly, although he’s obviously still curious. “Nice job nabbing that john.”
Once Josh is out of earshot, Brandon leans back in his chair and snorts.
“What a dumb fuck.”
I merely shrug.
“He is terrified of you,” I say.
“You have to be firm with asses like that,” Brandon insists. “He couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag.”
I merely sigh while observing Josh from across the room. My brother’s words are true because initially, Josh was assigned to Operation Criminal Intent, but he was terrible. This guy doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body and the girls could tell he was a cop from a mile away. It doesn’t help that he’s awkward and gets really nervous around women.
Now, our lumbering colleague is talking to another police officer, and she too, is trying to ignore him by typing furiously at her computer while staring fixedly at her screen.
“It’s weird that he just doesn’t get it,” I admit curiously. “Maybe he has some kind of mental deficiency?”
“No, Josh is normal,” Brandon snorts. “He’s just clueless and spineless, which makes for a useless undercover.”
I nod, agreeing with this assessment. Josh is the kind of cop who wants to tack onto other’s victories without having to participate in the fight itself. How did this guy even get through the Police Academy? It’s astonishing, and the answer is that they must be passing everyone these days. But now that we have our privacy once more, my brother turns back to the matter at hand.