Hank choked back a few sobs, a sure sign that he needed another drink, and fumbled for his bottle with shaking hands. That data stick he’d found after they took that pregnant teenager out fell out of his pocket first. It clattered all over the floor just as a cop showed up.
“Who’d you steal that from?” the cop spat in disgust, scooping up the data stick and sticking it into…what were them things called?…a tablet.
Hank didn’t care. He’d only vaguely thought he might be able to sell it to someone in exchange for a few bucks toward his next bottle. What Hank cared about was that this cop, who’d been sniffing around the storage space building all day, probably wouldn’t take kindly to Hank’s taking a swig of liquor.
“Elections R Us,” the cop read off his screen. “Serving the greater good since 2001. A Florida-based corporation.” He yanked the data stick out of his tablet and threw it at Hank, hitting him square in the face.
It stung, just missing his eye, but again Hank didn’t care. It didn’t sting anywhere near as bad as the memories of a lifetime of defeat that were his only reward for sobriety.
“Not possible in this fair land,” the cop snorted, still looking at the data stick. “Bad joke.” Now he was looking at Hank again. “But you look like you’ve sobered up nicely since I first saw you this morning. So I have a few questions.”
Hank now had his hand on the promised land, his bottle. “I…I need a drink!”
“Not till after you’ve answered my questions. Because of recent developments in San Francisco we’re re-opening an investigation into a disappearance and possible homicide here. We’re in the process of ruling out homicide due to our failure to find any evidence of a body, but we need to locate a blonde woman named Karen for interrogation.”