Felix drummed his pen nervously on his desk. He had only been on hold for a minute, but every second that ticked by felt like another icy stare from the Captain Hale. Finally, he heard the telltale click that relieved some of his stress. He didn’t even notice Officer Bucholz walk up behind him.
“Officer Moore, this is Derrick Warren.”
“Yes, yes…this is Felix Moore…is this the chief?”
“It’s as close as you’re getting right now. Our chief is on vacation. Dispatch was telling me you think those two men I saw on KELO are in our city?”
“Yes, we have reason to believe they’re staying at the Super 8.”
“Well, that’s great. Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“We have several Super 8’s in this town Officer Moore.”
Felix started shuffling papers around on his desk. “Just a moment, I have that here somewhere…” Paper began flying off his desk, and he held the phone tightly against his chest to keep his disorganization a secret from Warren. While Felix shuffled papers, Bucholz crossed his arms and cleared his throat. Felix paid him no mind.
“FELIX!”
Felix jumped in his chair for a moment. He spun around, winding the phone cord around his chest. “Bucholz, I’m a little high strung today. Jeez. I’m trying to find that Super 8 info about the Elson check in.”
Bucholz walked over to the back of Felix’s desk. “You mean this stuff you sat on your monitor?” Felix took the paper and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Thanks.”
Bucholz smiled as Felix put the phone back up to his ear.
***
“Thick? I honestly didn’t think there was a way for you to know.”
“Listen to yourself. I can’t believe I’ve been thinking about you lately.”
Bob glanced at her. She had a fiery look in her eyes and he could almost see a vein starting to pop out of her head. It was becoming clear that the longer he stood by and did nothing, the closer Phil was to finally closing this chapter of his life.
The problem was, Bob was no good at standing by and doing nothing. He remembered taking the blame on more than one occasion for a brother or sister when he was a kid. He thought back to the times in High School he was a shoulder to cry on (and to a lesser extent, how he sometimes used that to his advantage). He kept friends safe and jail free during college, and even kept a few of them from failing. He had only stood by and done nothing once that he could remember, but the memories were not ones he cared to revisit. Besides, this time was different. Wasn’t it?
Bob snapped his focus back to the conversation, which was getting hard to ignore due to the volume.
“YOU are MAKING no SENSE Michelle. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d know.”
“STOP SAYING THAT. YOU’RE the one not making any sense. This little chat is reminding me why I left in the first place. You’re just too damn DENSE sometimes.” Michelle slid out of the booth and started to stand up.
