Olympus Drive Book 2: Nothing to See Here

Chapter 30

Detective Stamos

Usually they call first, but not always. Either way I'm not surprised to get a knock on my door just after one in the morning. And—ah yes. My incompetent spies. Completely intoxicated.

"So---so remember how you told me not to drive drunk? Interestingly---interestingly enough my mother has said---and I quote—that if I show up at her door hammered like my wino old man she'll leave me on the goddamn porch---and so---it's technically you're fault ----so I'm here," Thyme slurs, his girl hanging on his bare chest. She's wearing his shirt, hers clearly got lost somewhere. He's shirtless, tattoos of weapons all over his skin. Jesus, this kid.

"Get in here, go get a drink of water," I say, letting them.

"Thank—thank you detective, man, guy," Anna slurs, giggling and hanging on Thyme. They've very obviously had sex great. Is she wearing shorts? Never mind I can't tell and don't want to.

"Nice party. No adults just booze---we partook—we partook of the alcohol."

"Yeah I ah—I noticed," I say, moderately amused, "So you didn't see anything suspicious?"

"He couldn't find the music—"

"Spearks I ---I tried detective."

"So that's a no. Cool."

"I---I need a phone, we don't have phones, I wanna—I'm gonna call my mom," Anna says, checking Thyme's pockets again as he looks in my pantry for food.

"You can use mine. Come on. I'm driving you home," I say, getting my car keys.

"You---you're dressed. Do you sleep in your clothes?"

"Have since your chaotic ass hit puberty, come on, I'm driving you home," I say, the last part to Anna, then add, "You—Thyme--- sleep it off I'll return you to your dad in the morning for a hang over cure."

"Fuck I'll need it," Thyme laughs he is toasted. I don't think I've ever seen him this drunk.

"Do you know where you live?" I ask Anna.

"Yeah—yeah let me write you the address---shit I don't have my purse—that sucks—"

"I have a phone---it's not mine though is it yours?" Thyme asks, holding up a rose gold iPhone along with his little burner phone.

"There we go, I'll look up your address, you---Thyme, sit the fuck down, and go to sleep," he was wandering around. I give her back her phone.

"Yes, officer."

"If you're not sitting there drinking water when I get back I will call your mom."

"Okay, okay," He mumbles, slinking to the chair. "Anna call me—or I'll call you."

"I'm definitely gonna call you," she kisses him goodbye for a very long time.

"Good, glad you did that in front of me, come on," I take her arm and guide her out to the car. She giggles but lets me lead her. She's really far gone too. Why did I encourage them to help me? Oh yes I wanted them to leave me alone.

"Ooh nice car," she says, completely ironically.

"There are often kids in it. Drink the water," I say, handing her a bottle of water as she gets in the passenger side. She fiddles with the Call of Duty t-shirt that Thyme must have given her, I'm sure quite willingly.

"You're nice. I forget who you are," she says.

"I'm a cop. My name's Stamos," I say, handing her a twenty dollar bill as we pull out, "That's for your detective work tonight. Give it to your boyfriend when you next see him." Why the fuck do I help that boy? Oh yeah he reminds me of his dad when he looks pathetic. And his parents had him when they were sixteen he doesn't have a whole lot of parenting going on from them. I know they try. But. There's a limited amount of parenting an alcoholic twenty-six year old can do for a ten year old boy who loves weapons.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, really?" I ask, glancing over at her. Her hair's a mess, and she's wearing his shirt. I feel like she's not wearing pants under it though I'm trying not look closely. It's very obvious they've been involved romantically.

"No I don't claim people. They sure as hell don't claim me," she says, smiling a little, "I don't ever want to belong to anyone."

"I thought Thyme said you were married."

"I'm helping him his keep his visa. My mother and I—have a thing for strays," she says.

"Clearly so do I."

"Cool, I'll introduce you to my mom you can adopt each other."

"I'm fine thanks," I say, amused by her intoxicated offer.

"No really she found a mental patient in a gutter yesterday and she insists she's keeping it, a cop who sleeps in jeans and a wifebeater with his badge around his neck is an improvement."

"That's entirely the fault of your—the dumb bastard, back there," I say, nodding, "He had some bad late night habits from age twelve to whenever the hell we convinced the military to put him on another continent."

"I'd like to give him some bad late night habits."

"Go for it," they can't be worse than repelling down a building using mainly drapes at three am in order to shoot through the windows of the building. In his defense it was a part of a gang war. In his condemnation he started both gangs as well as the war.

"I think I will----why do you drive people around in the middle of the night anyway?"

"I'm not a fan of people driving drunk. And I think girls should be driven home."

"Get a lot of customers?"

"Not really, just the one."