The coffee machine in the station's rest area dropped a little styrofoam cup and began pouring hot chocolate into it. Jim wasn't really a fan of coffee, so the machine's inclusion of his favorite childhood drink was welcome.
As he lifted the cup up to his lips, a firm hand slapped him on the back, destabilizing him and sending drops of hot chocolate in all directions.
"You gonna clean that mess up, dipshit?"
Jim turned to face the bull of a man behind him. "Officer Roberts. Always a pleasure."
"Your sarcasm isn't welcome here, Jimmy."
"Neither is your – um, I mean neither are – oh, just fuck off."
"That's the spirit, Jimbo." Roberts patted Jim's back again. Fortunately, this time there was not enough hot chocolate left to spill.
"So are you coming or going?" Jim asked.
"Going. Day shift today, and now it's over. Just gonna go get changed into my unassuming civilian clothing, and I am off. What have you been keeping yourself busy with?"
"Funny you should ask. I'm making some headway with that case we were speaking about."
"What case? The suicides?" Roberts seemed genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, don't spread this around, but I've been investigating – like, properly investigating. I went to where the last person to commit suicide lived, talked to her roommate, looked through her room, the works. If I close my eyes and pretend really hard, I almost feel like I'm a real cop now."
"Have you now?"
"I have. I also spoke to Officer Spaulding, who's been investigating the suicides as well. Apparently he's not supposed to be, but he's doing it anyway. Maybe between me and him, we can get to the bottom of it."
"Stranger things have happened, Jimbo. How long are you in for today?"
"Oh, I don't have any work here today, I just came to speak to Spaulding."
"And rob us of our precious supplies of coffee, apparently."
"Hot chocolate, actually."
"Whatever. Since we're both on our way out, what do you say we grab a drink?"
"A date, Officer Roberts? I hope you don't think I put out easy."
"Very funny, but I have to let you know that you're not my type. So what do you say? Are you up for a couple of cold ones or not?"
"Yeah, sure, count me in. I'll meet you out in the parking lot."
*
"How the hell are you putting those beers away so fast?" Roberts' voice rang in Jim's ears.
The cheap stool was wobbling from underneath him, and the chatter and bustle of the bar sounded distant in a way that any drunkard is all too familiar with. "Don't criticize me for not being a pussy like you. Look at you, sitting there on only your second beer." Jim always seemed to get along well with Roberts in spite of his jocular personality, and combined with his current state of inebriation, his normal social anxiety had been completely washed away by lager and good conversation.
"Jimmy, you gotta pace yourself, my man. Slow it all way down. The beers, the cases..."
YOU ARE READING
The Mind Virus
Mystery / ThrillerWhat would you risk to stop the deaths of strangers, and how many people would you kill to save your life? A spate of peculiar suicides has caught police intern Jim Ford's attention. Desperate to prove his worth, and against the advice of his disint...
