Keith threw a gun and badge on beneath a dark windbreaker, grabbed his department radio from a charging slot in his little home-office and slid into the passenger seat of the idling SCPD Explorer waiting for him in front of his place.
The vehicle had a side-by-side cup holder setup, one of the slots filled with a Yeti and whatever Lizzy was drinking. The other slot had a large Styrofoam cup in it, and she lifted it and handed it to Keith.
‘I believe black coffee filled with so much sugar it turns into a sort of crude pudding, is your poison,” she said.
And he took it thankfully, feeling the hotness of it.
“The nectar of the gods,’ he smiled. “So, what exactly am I being dragged into?”
But as they backed out of the parking lot and slowly rolled away from his place, Lizzy ignored that question and instead fired back with one of her own.
“Do you know what I like about our department?”