By six P.M., when Mr. Truttle was due to arrive home from his Southern trip, the house smelled like an Italian restaurant and Brian’s stress level was off the charts.
Jim didn’t know what to do about it, so he chose idle chat. “It was so boring today. We spent two hours waiting in court, then Officer Green was told he wasn’t needed. There were few calls and they were all petty. We went to two disturbances and never drove fast or went Code Three. No robberies or murders or anything, you know. He wrote one ticket for speeding and let two other drivers off with warnings.”
“So it’s not like on TV. You still want to be a cop?”
Jim nodded with a smirk, but he caught the nervous jitters from Brian. As a huge pan of lasagna baked, they in slacks and short-sleeved button-down shirts at the kitch
