I knew there was no way he could actually see me. There were no lights on in the car. No street lights directly over me. All he would see is an empty car parking in the street, like any others. Even so I didn't move a muscle while he stood there for the next couple of minutes. When he was content he turned, and headed back to his desk. I let out a small breath.
About an hour in they all stopped what they were going and left. They all came back with cups of coffee so I can only assume they were in the break room. When morning came, they all changed shifts. The cops that were there replaced with others, who had all bought coffee from a café on the way there.
I had been awake for quite a few hours now watching them in the dark, taking notes. I didn't have anything to do for the day. There was hardly a chance of getting in there at night, much less the day, so there was no need to stick around. I needed to clean up. The dried blood was making my hair crusty. My 12 hour nap had done me good. There was still a dull ache in my head but otherwise I had no other concussion symptoms.
I pulled on a different hoodie, with much difficulty I might add with my shoulder being pretty much out of order. There was a public bathroom down the road. It was still pretty early so there were no tourists or many people at all out yet. I opened the door and locked it behind me promptly. I had to get the hoodie off again now. Another mission in itself. It wasn't ideal. The bathroom, I mean. The grimy mirror and dull lighting didn't make much of a medical room. I peeled back the bandage on my shoulder. It was looking okay considering. The stitches looked even worse than I thought they would but they still seemed to be working ok so I didn't worry much about it. I used some toilet paper and ran it under the tap water to wash away most of the blood that had crusted onto my arm. It took a bit of scrubbing. Obviously, the tap water wasn't ideal for the actual wound.
I washed that with some disinfectant and wrapped another fresh bandage around it, which was difficult with one arm. I had no use for the used bandages so I discarded them in the bin, trying to push them to the bottom. It felt so much better to be clean. I moved on to my head. Letting the tap run, I stuck my head under the flow and massaged my scalp. The water ran down the drain a faded red color. I kept going until the water ran clear and put some disinfectant on that the best I could as well. As far as I could tell the actual cut wasn't too bad. Small, but deeper than I expected by the feel on it. It was concealed by my hair, so I wouldn't have to worry about that.
I moved on to my arm, washing away the blood, applying more disinfectant and putting another bandage on. Same steps as before. I repeated this on my hand, but without the bandage. It didn't need it. It was every smaller than I'd thought. Without much to do I stayed parked in the lot beside the public bathrooms. There were no outdoor cameras that I could see, so I thought I'd be safe sitting there for a bit. I felt fresher. While in the bathroom I'd also given everything else a bit of a wash. Not an important detail really.
I returned to the police station that night. It was the same. Same people there. Same jobs. Same coffee break. Everything was so similar I felt like I was watching the night before on repeat. Routine was good I suppose. I hadn't slept since the early hours of yesterday so I quickly fell asleep on the watch. When I woke up it was nearly light out. The sun was rising, seemingly sharing my presence with the world. I started the car and drove off, kicking myself for falling asleep.
Something took me to an old football field. It was downtown. Our team used to go there for kicks on the afternoons we had free from practice. Practice took the fun out of football. The only reason any of us kept playing was those nights at the field. Kept us sane with all the pressure of college scouts and dreams of the big leagues. Obviously, I never made the cut. I've been told I could have. If I had focused more. Truth was I didn't enjoy it by the end of high school. I was still good at it but it had become something of a chore. Natural talent they called it. I was captain for my last season. Naturally they had to let the older ones be captains. They were probably a bit better than me anyway. I filled in for a college team for one game as well. I'm not even sure if that's allowed but they were down players due to some big flooding or something.
The car park was deserted. Being so far from the heart of the city made the place seem like a ghost town. No one would be here for a long time. Not until after school at least. Then it would spark to life with teenagers with six packs of beer and a few footballs. They would mess around, get a bit drunk and then go home. Some things never change.
My shoulder was still hurting like a bitch. I parked outside the police station again that night. With a different car, of course. They would notice the same car being there three nights in a row. I also parked in a different place. Different viewpoint. There weren't many places where I could park that still had a good view of the doors into the Sherriff's station, but I tried to have some variation. The car had been stolen. A teenager was my victim. Did him a favor really. The car was a wreck. Something you would see only a teen driving. A teen whose parents couldn't afford to buy him a car for his birthday. Which was me, not that long ago really. There was no way Mom and Dad would buy me a car even if they could afford it. They've always had a 'work for it' kind of attitude. Nothing came for free with them. My first car was still better than this guys. I was pretty cool at the time. Everyone wanted to get a ride with me, in my circle of friends anyway. Until one of my other mates got a bigger car. Then I was pretty much forgotten. Which humors me now. How much I cared when that happened. It was no big deal. Either way, the car I left him was much better.
I removed the plates and switched them before making the swipe. He was too busy making stupid decisions with his mates to notice his car being stolen. Teenagers can be stupid like that. At times it's like they have absolutely no brains, or they're from some alien planet. I would know. Like I said, nothing changed. The nights before on repeat taunted my brain. I ate a little. I'd bought some takeaways in cash from a Chinese place. Security cameras were fakes. There for show. The company couldn't afford real ones. They were barely hanging on as it was. None of them recognised me.
From what I could tell they spoke very little English anyway. Wouldn't help the police much. So, I sat there in the car, eating Chinese takeaways, plotting ways to break into a police station to steal evidence. One thing I realized, while sitting there in silence, was that it would be incredible hard to do it alone. I should be searching for help. Of course, I had other friends in this town. I grew up with most of these people. Which is exactly why the police would question them and have them under surveillance. None of them were an option. I had an army buddy up north but I didn't want to go back up there in case the police were still scanning the area. That just left one option. To go it alone.
Three nights later was when it all went down. The same four cops were on duty. Doing the same crap, they do every night. I had switched cars in a parking lot two days ago. Once again, I switched the plates, this time with the car beside it. Switching plates isn't an easy business. But it was mandatory. It was just past nine. Dark out. I dialed the police station moments later on a disposable phone I purchased at the store down on. I cleared my throat as it was dialing. The woman picked up. She seemed excited to get a call. "Hell" ... I didn't let her finish. "Hello. Hi. I think there's someone in my house. A burglar. My wife's been stabbed. She's bleeding and I can hear banging upstairs. My address is 1451 Halltown Road. Please hurry". I hung up.
My attempt to change my voice wasn't a total fail but I was no actor. It didn't matter though. The cops were fooled. Three of the four rushed outside and peeled onto the street, two patrol cars between them. Backup was most likely on the way. As soon as the flashing lights had disappeared around the corner I got out of the car. No one was around. My footsteps echoed on the street. Form the window I could see the fourth man disappearing into the other room. The door made very little sound as I opened it. To be honest I was expecting to hear a bell overhead.
The carpet muffled my footsteps as I followed the man into the other room. He was on the phone with someone. The sheriff most likely. My calculations told me I had roughly thirteen minutes before they realized nothing was wrong at 1451 Halltown Rd, conveniently on the other side of town. The forth man talked for ages on the phone. My watch showed the minutes ticking by. I needed him out of the way so I could find the evidence but I couldn't alert anyone on the other end of the phone that something was wrong. Finally, he hung up. Only eight minutes to go. Quickly I ran into the room and grabbed him by the throat. His hand was on his gun but he had no time to draw it. My hand muffled his yells as my elbow choked him, slowly knocking him unconscious.
The layout was pretty simple. Sheriff's office was just off to the side behind a glass wall, the blinds drawn closed and the lights inside off. Shadows cast along the hallway under the light. More offices. A small holding room. Three small cells were lined up on the back wall. A window, with bars across of course let in some moonlight. Other than that, it was eerily dark and quiet. There was a bench in each one but that was it. Obviously, it wasn't a long term holding cell. Swiftly, I moved on. A gold-plated sign on one of the doors near the end read 'evidence'. Time was ticking. I placed my hand on the handle and turned. The door was locked.