He pushed out all thought of the case from his mind and turned off the hot water. A little time to let things sink in might do him some good.
A long time ago he discovered that it never paid to overly think about things. There was much to be said for letting your brain rest. He sometimes found it more helpful to allow the world to turn and maybe it would bring the answers to him. If not, then panic might bring an answer out from somewhere unexpected.
As he waited for the world to turn up some answers, he flipped through the morning talk shows on TV.
***
"You applying for the chief position?" Ronald Bates, John's friend from his days on the force asked.
John pushed the elevator button for the second floor and told admitted, "Didn't even know the job was open."
Ronald adjusted his black tie and struggled with a wrinkled collar. "Some guys think Frank'll get it."
"He'd be a good one. Got a lot of experience."
The elevator stopped and the door slid open with jolting movements. The two men looked at each other. "Better get off this old bird while we have a chance," Ronald advised. "It's been hanging up lately."
"This place never changes," John said.
"Good to see you again," Ronald told him on his way down the hall. He turned the corner still messing with his collar.
John stood for a few seconds and soaked in the ambiance. He had to admit he did miss being a police officer. However, the job never stopped. There was no rest for the wicked and even less rest for the wicked busters. It had not been that long since he wore the uniform. In fact, he could probably step back into it without missing a beat. The smell was the same, the drab color of the walls was the same, and even the gritty sound of the telephone ringing in some far away office was the same. Something in this busy place was always going on.
Frank was in his office. It was the last door at the end of the hall leading from the elevator. John knocked on the door and was given a yell to come on in.
"You look like a real professional, John. You got on your baggy shorts and tie-dyed shirt. Only thing missing is the sandals and leather headband," Frank said watching his friend walk into his office.
John smiled broadly. "No more uniform for me," he said. He wanted to say more but the comeback just wasn't there. He did, however, feel a little out of place with what he had chosen to wear.