Throwaway Runaway

Officer Reynolds rubbed the corners of his mouth, where his grey mustache and frown lines were in a stern lock.
“Keith, I can’t say this to you enough, since Mae is 18 we can’t report her as a runaway,” stated the clearly irritated man.
“Chris, she is my child. I don’t care how old she is or where the hell she is at, you’re going to find her and bring her back here to safety,” said Keith.
Mae’s father has been drinking well over 20 years, the apartment was filled with bags of beer cans and had several beer cans sprung throughout the house. Officer Reynolds asked if he could look around the location for evidence of where she might be.
“Look wherever, I don’t know what exactly you may find,” said Keith, Mae’s father.
Officer Reynolds lifted himself from the couch and grunted, he made his way to a bedroom where Mae had pasted some of her artwork on the door. He turned the knob and the door drifted open. He entered the room and the smell of marijuana overwhelmed him. He closed the door and walked back to the drunken man, who was now sprawled out on the couch.
“You know that room reeks of pot, right?” asked the Officer, sitting back in the chair.
“That’s how I know she left within these past few hours, I already looked in there and her clothes, shoes, book bag and all of her art supplies are gone,” said Keith, finishing the tail end of a three day old beer.
Officer Reynolds rolled his eyes and took out his notepad.
“I’m going to put her and Nate in as missing persons, if anything comes up I will give you a call,” said the police officer.
“Things would be different if it was your kid, Reynolds. You don’t know what it’s like,” said Keith.
Officer Reynolds nodded and made his way to the door, letting shut closely behind him.