Smith kicked his office door again while he jiggled the keys stuck in the dead bolt. He slammed the doorframe with the palm of his hand hard enough that one of the nails securing his nameplate to the door fell to the floor. He quickly grabbed the swinging sign before it dislodged from the second nail.
“C’mon, you good-for-nothin’ bastard. Turn!”
Smith twisted the key as hard as he could and heard a popping noise as the locking mechanism finally gave way. He pushed open his office door and entered the dark room. He tossed his keys onto his desk; they slid a short distance before a stack of time-faded papers and case-file folders abruptly stopped them.
Flicking the light switch, the room illuminated with an anemic-brown glow from the single dusty bulb. He took a step toward the coffee per
