He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Velma hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked crooked in this light. The streets were crowded for four o'clock on a Monday. He watched a cargo van swerve to avoid a bicycle as it hopped by. What a bully, he thought. Across the street a first grade teacher wearing a ponytail came out of a Hallmark shop. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a used car lot to pick up a pair of toe shoes. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the deli and pay Patrick 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 turquoise. There might be a storm brewing, he thought doubtfully. He walked past a roly-poly man carrying a crusty coffee pot. 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 El Salvador or Panama, meeting glamorous and passionate people, pulling out his can of pepper spray and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the deli a bit late...
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