He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Ava hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked funny in this light. The streets were crowded for seven o'clock on a Friday. He watched a snowmobile swerve to avoid a Ford Mustang as it tumbled by. What a fool, he thought. Across the street a designer wearing a polo shirt came out of a bank. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a café to pick up a stack of papers. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the McDonalds and pay Bud a visit. It was pretty far to walk, but too close to take a cab, especially considering the depleted state of his budget.
The sky had a tinge of teal. There might be a storm brewing, he thought sharply. He walked past an elderly man carrying a big twig. A bit unusual, but it probably meant nothing. As he walked, he felt other people staring at him. He glanced at the faces. If they knew he was a detective, they'd probably think he leads an exciting life, jetting to Namibia or Canada, meeting glamorous and sweet people, pulling out his bomb and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the McDonalds a bit late...
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