Senile Squad: Adventures of the Old Blues by Chris LeGrow

Author:Chris LeGrow [LeGrow, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: CL1557 Publishing LLC
Published: 2016-06-22T04:00:00+00:00

Once again her father accompanied her. Inside the supply room, she gave Paps the paperwork.

He glanced through each page with a perpetual frown. “Pretty young to be a retired Blue, aren’t you?”

Smitty shoved Paps’s shoulder in a playful gesture. “Give her a break; she’s a rookie just learning the ropes.”

Paps reviewed the papers again then fixed a stern gaze on Brittany. “First,” he said, holding up the paperwork in his right hand, “nobody gets in and no supply goes out without the proper paperwork.”

Smitty rolled his eyes and leaned toward his daughter’s ear. “Here it comes,” he said in a stage whisper, “the dreaded supply briefing.”

“Jerry and I work hard to make sure this area is the model of efficiency. We make it run and it’s our show. All we ask is proper identification, paperwork, returning of investigative property or tools, and,” Paps paused and exchanged a knowing look with Jerry who nodded in encouragement, “some of those cookies you bring the guys upstairs would sure be nice.”

Unsure she’d heard correctly, Brittany blinked at the two men. Comprehension slowly dawned and she smiled. “One dozen cookies will be on your desk tomorrow.”

Paps and Jerry’s faces glowed with obvious delight. “Good,” said Paps. He glanced at Jerry who nodded his head and rubbed his hands together.

Every one of them, Brittany thought, was a little boy at heart.

Glancing around their domain, she noted that the rooms were organized into an administrative section with office supplies, a janitorial section, and a medical section.

“Come this way,” Paps said. “The Sarge wants you equipped with our special audio/visual recording apparatus.”

“Awesome,” Brittany said. “It sounds pretty Dick Tracy.”

Paps chuckled. “Right this way.”

Paps turned to leave and Jerry took his place at the surveillance cameras monitoring the outside hallways that led to the supply room. He gave a nod to Paps who lifted a cup filled with pens and pencils on his desk. Only he didn’t pick it up, he turned it to the right.

What? Brittany realized the mug was attached to the desk. With his motion came a clicking sound that drew her attention to a closet marked “First Aid.”

She tried to follow everything Paps was doing: he walked to the closet and opened it. Inside packages of medical supplies lined the shelves. Nothing out of the ordinary there—certainly nothing requiring a secret entrance. Paps bypassed the obvious items and reached back toward an electrical box complete with Warning Do Not Touch in red and a black picture of a lightning bolt in case a person didn’t get the previous message.

Paps stuck his hand into the fuse box and with a quick glance her way said, “We like raisin oatmeal the best.”

ZZAAPPPP! A spark spit out from where Paps’s hand was. He opened his mouth as if in pain. “Jee-aaagh!” he said. He seemed to convulse.

Appalled, Brittany grabbed her father’s arm. “Do something,” she yelled. “Oh, Paps!”

Her father looked at her with his eyes wide and mouth open, then he gazed back at Paps who jiggled up and down.

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