5
To Padraic, all police stations looked and smelled exactly the same: drab white walls and old, burnt coffee lingering in the air. He sauntered up to the counter which was surrounded with bulletproof glass. He tapped his foot and waited for the desk officer to get off the phone.
“Can I help you?” The officer spoke through a metal grate hole.
Speaking loud and clear, he stated, “My name is Padraic Stone. I’d like to talk with your chief. I’m a friend of Cari Davis.” Pad handed the officer his driver’s license and credentials.
The officer gestured to a hard plastic chair. “Have a seat. I’ll see if Chief Booth is available.”
Pad stepped aside. It wouldn’t be uncommon for this to take a while.
Moments later the desk sergeant returned. “Mr. Stone, follow me.” He held open the door to the
