that was the same name as the kid that those kids were looking for. Couldn't be the same guy though right? fuck what was his occupation? His description.
He didn't remember shit because he was too busy counting down the time to the record. Fuck. What was that kid's number. The one with the rosy cheeks. He stopped the car and pulled out his notebook. Scribbles. He was writing down scribbles.
This is why he was a shitty cop. He went to punch his steering wheel. The smack felt deflated. He took a deep sigh. Then began driving again.
He liked the sound of the rubber screeching gently against the asphalt as he accelerated.
gas
. Burning it.
Fuck so what if he didn't remember those kids. If this Jack on the radio was indeed their Jack... well then he wasn't missing. He'd been found so there wasn't an issue at all. Plus he was off the clock. Not his business. Not anymore.
----
When Alan arrived at Aaron's he realized why Aaron was driving the GMC
SUV
. It was the less nice car. His dad had a Ford F-350 parked in the garage.
"Business has been good for my old man" aaron said. That's good. That's at least one of us. The two of them went straight into the basement.
"I got this whole floor to myself." Aaron said.
He opend the door to a full sized fridge. grabbed two cans of
Busch Light
and tossed one to Alan.
"The beer helps me think," Aaron said.
"What is there to think about?"
"Jack. Where the hell he go?"
Alan wasn't sure. He cracked open his
beer
. He couldn't figure out why but suddenly he felt like getting smashed tonight. There was definitely enough beer in Aaron's fridge for that.
"So tell me from the top again. You two were sitting there in the parking lot. Getting high. And you fell asleep?"
"Yeah"
"Do you remember what time it was?"
"I don't know. Last time I remember seeing the clock. Must've been like 7:45 or so."
Aaron took controlled sips. Alan was drinking it fast. He liked the sting of the cold bubbles in his mouth.