Kevin got home sometime after 11 PM. He was too exhausted from the extended drive to take his luggage out of the car, or pay any attention to the indicator on his answering machine showing that someone had actually called him for once. He did bring the empty beverage bottles and Styrofoam burger container inside, tossing the container into the trash and the bottles into a blue recycling bin. He went into the bedroom and sat on the bed long enough to pull off his shoes before lying down and trying to go to sleep. When he rolled over onto his stomach, the money in his sweatshirt pocket dug into him, so he hunched up just enough to be able to remove it, leaving it on the bed next to him.
He woke up the next morning at 8:38 AM. Groggily, he rolled onto his back, winding up on the money once again. He'd briefly entertained the notion of laying it out on the bed and rolling around in it when he was counting it out, but the situation would have called for having some sweet young thing and her sister join him. There was still time for that, especially once he made his way down to Miami Beach.
He undressed and took a shower, still unsure of how he was going to spend his day. Perhaps he'd take a trip into Boston and prowl Newbury Street for some new upscale clothes. He'd heard of how there was an upscale shopping mall in the vicinity of Copley Plaza, and decided to investigate that for the additions to his wardrobe. Hopefully the sales girl would be up for the idea of undressing him in the fitting room.
After he dried off and groomed himself for the day, he got dressed in a faded Metallica T-shirt and jeans and went into the kitchen to see what his breakfast options were. He finally noticed the answering machine, and he hit the button to play the message upon it. "Trooper Thornton, this is Captain Steinhaus. We need you to come in tomorrow. Call to confirm receipt of this message. Again, this is Captain Steinhaus, your commanding officer, telling you to report to the barracks tomorrow."
Kevin grinned evilly. Finally those fools had recognized that his actions weren't the heinous offenses they'd originally made them out to be. Still, they needed to be reminded of their mistake, so while he would be going back to receive their apology, he'd make them wonder where he was the whole time by not returning the call. He erased the message and continued into the kitchen.
His food options were limited, so he decided to go out for breakfast. He threw on a summer-weight Red Sox jacket, got back into his car after peeling an indeterminate number of $10 and $20 bills off of the stash and went to the A-1 Deli Restaurant, where he had a cheese steak omelette washed down with four glasses of orange juice. He paid with a $20 bill and left without bothering to wait for his change; after his good luck at Foxwoods, he was in a high enough mood to want to spread the pleasantness around. He decided he needed some better alcohol for his place, so he went in search of a liquor store.
Kevin drove to Kenoza Avenue and parked outside Chris Ann Liquors. He entered it and perused the refrigerated beer cases, looking for something new and different from what he usually got. He found a Hawaiian microbrew called Longboard Island Lager, so he took two six-packs of it and carried them to the counter to pay for them. After putting them in the back seat of the car and finally noticing his bag and suit from the night before were still there, he headed north along Route 125 into Plaistow, New Hampshire to the state-run liquor store there to assess their collection of hard liquor, as the selection of which at Chris Ann had been rather limited. There he found himself some top-shelf spirits: Woodford Reserve bourbon, Don Julio añejo tequila, and Talisker single malt Scotch. He also found an assortment of rums distilled right in the area such as Privateer, Folly Cove, Old Ipswich, and even one from Nantucket called Hurricane; he got a bottle of that along with one of Privateer. On a whim he also got a bottle of Taittinger champagne. The price for all of it exceeded the amount of cash he was willing to spend, so he put it on his Discover card instead and took the old cardboard wine box in which the bag boy had placed all the bottles out to his car. He started the car and drove back home to unload both the booze and the clothing, and to get some more cash--could never have enough of that.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Hero
Mystery / ThrillerMassachusetts State Police Trooper First Class Kevin Thornton joined the force for all the wrong reasons, and as such he's done so little that the only promotion he's received is the automatic one to trooper first class after five years on the job...
