“There's a thermos of coffee right there next to your left foot,” Sheriff Carmichael announced, pointing toward the floorboard once Constance had climbed into the passenger side of the patrol car and shut the door.
“You read my mind,” she replied with a heavy sigh, shifting in the seat and then reaching for the dinged, grey metal cylinder.
“Go on and use the cap,” he offered. “I've already had my fill for a bit.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Oh yeah, and it's just black. Hope that'll do.”
“That's fine. Right now I don't care, as long as it's hot and has caffeine.”
He was slightly twisted in his seat, the back of his shoulder resting against the inner driver's side door and his left hand lazily hooked onto the top of the steering wheel. Reaching up with his right hand, he used his thumb and forefinger to smooth down his mustache while regarding her quietly. After a few heartbeats had thumped by, he asked, “So... About an hour 'n half? Maybe two?”
“What?” Constance asked while twisting the inner cap back onto the top of the thermos she was squeezing between her knees.
“Sleep,” he said. “No offense, but you look like crap.”
She took a sip of the freshly poured java, then nodded. “Oh. Yeah. About two I think. I couldn't stop thinking about...”
“Yeah, I know,” he cut her off. “Don't worry, I know I look like crap too. Three fingers of bourbon and a sleeping pill didn't do me much good last night either. Never does this time of year.”
“Yeah,” was all Constance could think of to say in that moment. She took another sip of the hot brew then stared thoughtfully at the thick fingers of steam rising from the metal cup. “Have you checked on her this morning?”
“Always do.”
“How is she?”
“On the outside, just like I said. Starin' off into space.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “On the inside, I'm afraid nobody really knows that except her. And since there's nothin' I can do to fix it, I try not to think about it too much. Hard not to, though... Guess you found that out last night.”
Once again, words failed her. “Yeah.”
“Well, go on. Buckle up,” the sheriff instructed with a wave of his hand, then levered the cruiser into reverse and looked over his shoulder as he began to back the vehicle out of its parking space. “We've got police work to do.”