He’d walked me to one of the guest chairs in the reception area where I sat while he brought me a glass of water. Having been classmates with the Sheriff a gazillion years ago had its compensations.
“It’s going to be okay Charlie,” he’d said. And then he proceeded to grill me.
When I’d finished the seventh recap of my evening’s adventure, Jeff flipped the notebook closed and tucked it in a pocket.
“Think you could identify him?”
“I don’t know. Got a mug book of guys with hats pulled down over their faces?” I saw his face and sighed. “Shit…God, I’m sorry Jeff. It’s been a long night.”
“I’ll get a cruiser to take you home.”
“My car’s right outside,” I pointed out.
“I know." He grimaced. "I saw it parked in the flower bed. You’re lucky I don’t write you up for DWI,” he replied, shaking his head. “You can pick it up tomorrow.”