“Still raining, I see.” Fritz pointed to my dripping umbrella. I’d forgotten I still held it. He closed the office door.
“Washes the dog shit off the sidewalks.” I forced a laugh that tore my lungs. The weather remained our favorite joke, Fritz and mine. We jested about that and his Alsatian dog, Caramel. “How are Bettina and the children?” I tried to always keep it light with him. To make him enjoy handing me the police reports so much it did not cross his mind that he did not need to do it.
“Are you crying?” he asked, concern in his gray eyes. No getting past Fritz, the experienced detective.
“A cold.” I wiped my wet face with my wet hand. I hated to lie to him, but Fritz ran everything by the book. He would neither understand, nor forgive, my passing off my papers, even to save Sarah. “A cold and the rain.”
He took a clean white handkerchief out of his uniform pocket and handed it to me. It smelled of starch from Bettina’s wifely care. “Thank you,” I said, wiping my cheeks.“Anything interesting?”
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