Paul was fixing for a drink. A cold
Coors
banquet at the Dockside bar. After driving around the
Seaside Rest
he would stop by the bar without even returning the police car to the station. They had made him work too long and he wasn't going to waste any more time.
"badmiton player," he thought to himself. Didn't really fit the bill for a killer. Maybe a boxer or UFC fighter... but someone who played that sissy sport?
He was just about to round the final corner of the parking lot, about to head out and go to the Dockside bar when suddenly a kid jumped out with his hands in the air.
"What the hell are you doing?" Paul yelled out the window with his car flashlight blaring into the kid's eyes. For some reason he had a bunch of black sharpie markers drawn into his face.
"I saw what happened! You got to help me! The Man from room 16. He and that woman. He was the one who strangled the guy. But they took the body and threw it in the dumpster over there."
"Kid hold on. Hold on. How do you know all this?"
"I saw it all. I was watching with binoculours."
Paul rubbed his chin. This was definitely something. But he also wanted to grab the beer. He radio'd it in just in case it was a trap. "I'm going to check out a dumpster. Kid, looks about age 20 or so told me there's a body there. Calling for backup."
Paul waited a moment. Damn police station would take about ten minutes to send somebody out here. "I'm going to go check it out on my own." he said. He'd check, then go to the Dockside bar.
"Negative. Paul. Do not go on your own. Wait for backup."
"Fuck that shit," he said with a snicker to the kid. He drove over to the dumpster. Got out and went over. The lid moaned as he lifted it up.