I shook my head in disgust. “How much longer is the chief gonna jerk us around?” I grumbled over the stub of a long-extinguished Camel. The leaves were changing in a deserted Meridian Hill Park, and a chill came over me like the park itself didn’t want me no more. “Fine,” I spat the cigarette out and replaced it as I walked back to the Buick, my footsteps on the cold concrete echoing back at me.
The kid was waiting for me in the parking lot.
“You need a vacation,” Sullivan smirked and folded the funnies into his breast pocket as I got behind the wheel, “you look like hammered shit.”
I put the Buick in gear and watched tranquility recede into the corner of my rear-view mirror.