Part 05

Sometimes Stegner didn’t understand himself. He should have had Paul help him with the inevitable reports that had to be done after the bodies were sent to the morgue. Instead he had sent his partner home to have dinner with Frannie and Bridgette, offering to handle the paperwork alone. The ache in his abdomen flared in strength, and as he turned off the engine to his sedan, he reached into his pocket for his antacids.

There were only two left in the roll, and he stripped the paper off them and threw them into his mouth. He knew that he probably should see a doctor, but then he would have to listen to the endless lectures about his weight, his diet, and his smoking. He had another roll of tablets in his desk upstairs.

At least I found the ones that taste like fruit flavored chalk, instead of chalk flavored chalk.

The rain had stopped, but the puddles were still deep enough that he splashed through them on his way inside, soaking his right foot. He was convinced this was anti-karma, and was what he got for being such a nice guy.

Entering the lobby of the station house, he gave a nod to Sergeant Shaughnessy at the counter, and winked at Audra where she sat at her dispatch desk. He stripped off his coat as he waited for the elevator. The homicide department, referred to by those who worked there as the pit, was on the second floor. The younger guys all prided themselves on walking upstairs, but Stegner had no such need to feel like a superhero.

Truth be told, climbing the five steps from the sidewalk up to the front door was all the workout Stegner cared for. Thank God he wouldn’t have to take another physical. In a matter of weeks, he would be a civilian, and his days would be his own—although he wasn’t sure just what he was supposed to do with that time. It stretched out like a huge unknown ocean of hours, and the thought of filling those empty hours was one that Stegner didn’t care to dwell on. He would have to figure that out soon enough.