Chapter 6
Justin fidgeted and shifted in the too-uncomfortable metal-framed chair. Was it his imagination or were icicles forming in the freezing office? He rubbed his arms, trying to keep the circulation going.
The door of the small office opened and Brad walked in holding two Styrofoam cups. Steam wafted from them and Justin eagerly held out his hands. He took a large swallow of the brown muck and then stuck his tongue out. Nasty.
“This swill is awful.”
Brad laughed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve never known coffee to be particularly good in a police station. The fire station coffee is a lot better.”
“They ought to arrest themselves for this,” Justin murmured. He stuck his tongue out again, grimacing.
“You look like a cat hacking up a hairball,” Brad said, taking a sip from his own cup. He sh
