On the way to Miss Darcy's house to get her statement, Hank radioed the local police station in Sandy, to try to get a sketch artist. He was hoping Miss Darcy's girls would be able to give a decent description of the unsub they witnessed abducting their father.
"What do you mean, you don't have a sketch artist?" Hank asked over the radio.
"No need for one, buddy," said the sergeant on the other end of the radio. "There's an app for that," he said, with a chuckle.
"I know there's a fucking app for it," complained Hank. "But a real sketch is always better." Hank made some what-the-fuck motions with his hands as he drove.
The sergeant on the radio replied with "Hey, get with the times buddy. The app is better, in my book."
Hank continued to argue over the radio. "I guaran-fucking-tee you that the Clackamas County Sheriff's office has a sketch artist. Guaranteed."
"Then what the hell ya talkin to me for, buddy?" asked the sergeant as he cut the connection.
Trainer was laughing his ass off in the passenger seat, as they drove down Highway 26 to Sandy. "That was awesome," he said as he continued to giggle.
"Shut the fuck up," Hank said, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road without punching something. It was just after seven p.m. and it was dark and foggy. Not the best visibility for banging his head on the steering wheel and screaming.
But he did it anyway.
Their car nearly hit the barricade on the right side of the road. "Damn, Henry. Chill. Relax, man. We'll use the goddamn app, okay? It'll be fine," Trainer assured Hank as he stifled the giggles still trying to burst out of his face. He thought hank losing his shit was fucking hilarious, but he didn't want to end up in a ditch just for laughing his head off.
"I know they have a sketch artist..." Hank started. "They just hate state cops. I know it."
Trainer started to say something, but Hank interrupted. "No... No, you shut the fuck up. You're not helping."
"Fine. Damn," Trainer said, allowing a few seconds of silence afterwords. "So this Darcy has nice titties, eh?" Trainer started to laugh some more and Hank punched him a few times in the shoulder.
"Yea, I'll bet she does," said Hank. A feint smile barely creeping across his face.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at Miss Darcy's house. It was a nice three bedroom house, in a newer development. One of those places where every house gets their own three square feet of front lawn and a flower bed.
As the detectives got out of their car, they could see Miss Darcy peeking out her front window, between the curtains. "There she is," said Trainer with a grin.
"Shut up, fat boy. You're married," responded Hank, putting his business face on. "Lets do this."
When they got to Miss Darcy's front door, she had already opened the door. Warm air wafted out into the cold night as she stood in the doorway. "State Police?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," answered Hank. "May we come in?"
"Of course," said Miss Darcy. "Cold out there tonight. And call me Sarah, please." She kept her eyes on Hank, while smiling that homemaker everything-is-wonderful smile. She pretty much ignored Trainer.
Hank introduced himself as he got inside. "I'm Detective Hank Miller," he said, reaching out his hand to shake with Sarah.
"Sarah Darcy," she said, still smiling. "Please, come have a seat." She gestured with her hands to the two chairs surrounding a coffee table. Sarah took a seat on the end of the couch, nearest the chair that Hank took.
Trainer was like a deer caught in headlights. Miss Darcy was beautiful. She did in fact have large breasts. Long, flowing brown hair. She wore a green skirt that barely came to her knees. Her blouse was nearly see-through white with lace and it showed way too much cleavage. Trainer was scared. He trembled. Everyone in the room was completely ignoring him. He cleared his throat a little, to make himself known.
"What?" asked hank, turning back to see Trainer, still standing in the open doorway. "At least close the door while you're standing there, Jack."
"Oh," said trainer. Like an ignored puppy, he did as he was told and closed the door. Then, he just continued to stand in the doorway. Hank didn't know it, but Trainer was terrified of attractive women. Always afraid he would say the wrong thing. Knowing that attractive women would never have anything to do with him.
Miss Darcy finally looked up at the big, confused man. "Please, have a seat. Detective..." she said, asking for his name.
Trainer stumbled to the chair next to Hank. He sat down and finally spoke. "Oh, sorry ma'am. Jack Trainer. Detective Jack Trainer. Sorry."
"No need to be sorry Jack," she said, and turned back to Hank. "Now, you wanted to know about my ex getting abducted at the Dairy Queen?" she asked Hank.
"Right," said Hank. He got out his notepad and looked up the notes he had from the interview he had with Mr. Glass. "Mr. Glass told us that one of his customers found your girls huddling in the back seat of your husband's... I mean, your ex's car."
"That's correct," said Sarah.
Trainer sat in his chair, silent and still scared to death. He continued to stare at Miss Darcy. Like her cleavage was a tractor beam of some sort, dragging him in.
Miss Darcy didn't notice one bit.
"And Mr. Glass said that your girls saw the guy who abducted your ex. We were hoping to talk to your girls. Maybe even try to get a composite sketch," explained Hank.
"Oh, I don't know how much help they will be. I don't think they got a very good look at the guy," said Sarah.
"It's worth a try, anyway," said Hank. "We have a nifty little app for the ipad that helps us make sketches. Should be pretty easy for the girls to at least give us give us some details, like was he white, have a mustache, what color hair, that sort of thing."
"Sure, okay. They're in their room right now. I'll go get them, if you like. Also, may I get you two something to drink? Coffee or a soda or something?" asked Sarah.
"Yes, I'll have some coffee, if you have some handy," answered Hank.
"And you?" she asked Trainer, who was still lost in lala land.
"Umm," he managed to say.
"Ignore him," said Hank. "He's not very social."
"You're the non- ..." Trainer tried to say, but failed to complete his sentence. His mouth still agape.
"Okay..." said Sarah, like she understood there wouldn't be any meaningful conversation with Trainer. She got up from her seat and went to the kitchen to fetch Hank his coffee.
"Get a hold of yourself, Jack." Hank whispered to Trainer, hoping he might come back from zombie land and actually do something useful.
"I umm," said Trainer.
"Oh my God. Seriously, what's wrong with you?" Hank asked, exasperated. "Did you at least bring in the ipad?"
"Oh," said Trainer. He got up, finally finding a purpose. He left the house to get the ipad from the car.
"Idiot," Hank said, under his breath as he sat, waiting for Sarah and her daughters. He looked over his notes a bit as he waited.
Sara came back shortly, handing him a cup of coffee. "Take anything in it?" she asked him.
"No, black is fine. Thank you," Hank answered as he sipped the coffee.
Sara went down the hall to gather her girls. Hank could hear one of them protesting. "But mom!!!"
Teenagers, thought Hank. Fucking teenagers. Great.
Trainer finally arrived, with ipad in hand. "Took you long enough," said Hank, noticing that Trainer had left the front door open. Again. "Seriously, again? Close the door. What's wrong with you?"
Trainer turned back, and closed the door. He was winded, breathing hard, and flustered from his surroundings. Still confused. "I uhh..." he said, handing the ipad to Hank.
"You keep it. Show the girls how to use it. Try to get something useful. And stop being a goddamn zombie," said Hank, not sure what to do with the big guy.
Sarah came back to the living room. "They're scared," she said. "They don't want to come out here and talk to you. Not sure that I blame them," she said.
"Okay," started Hank. "What if harmless Jack here..." he pointed to Trainer. "What if he went back to talk to them, with the ipad. Make it a game or something. Do you think they would go for that?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe. Worth a try. What do you think Jack?" Miss Darcy asked Trainer, who suddenly found a purpose in life.
"I'm on it!" he said with a start. He finally found a way out of the terrifying living room. Off to the back room he went, faster than Hank had ever seen him move.
"Okay then," Hank said. "I guess he's on it." He continued flipping through his notes and sipping his coffee.
Sarah went after Trainer, to introduce him to her girls. She tried to explain to them that Trainer was just a bit lovable teddy bear.
The girls jumped up and down and exclaimed "Yay!", then went up to Jack Trainer and started tossing around his fluffy hair. Just then, the zombie spell was lost and Trainer started to giggle uncontrollably.
Sarah went back to the living room and sat down in the couch, next to Hank. She stared into his deep blue eyes. Noticed that there wasn't a wedding ring on his finger. Not even a ring mark that some men would have after taking their ring off, to pretend they were single.
Hank completely ignored her. He could tell that she was staring at him. Felt her gaze. But, he was like a border collie with a frisbee. Obsessed with his case.
"Just looking at my notes here," he said. "It seemed to me, as I talked to Mr. Glass, that you two knew each other. Is that right?"
"Oh sure," said Sarah, smiling. "He goes to my church. Mark has always been kind to my girls, giving them free ice cream when we see him at the DQ."
"Go there often, do you?" Hank asked, staring back at the woman. Noticing their mutual attraction for the first time.
"Sometimes. Usually when the girls are just going crazy screaming 'DQ DQ DQ DQ' over and over. I swear they never grew out of their toddler years. It's their stupid father's influence, I think. He was always so immature," she said, noticing that Hank was actually looking into her eyes for the first time.
She sat back in her chair and averted her eyes a bit. Didn't want to be too obvious or desperate. Even though her money was running out and her ex was dead, so no more child support. She literally was desperate. If Trainer had taken any interest, she probably would have jumped at the chance.
But Hank, he was something special. She could tell.
"I see," said Hank, making a note. "So, you weren't seeing him then? I mean, romantically?" Hank asked.
"Oh no. Of course not," she seemed disgusted at the idea. Even though she probably would have hooked up with Mark if he had ever made a move.
"Right," said Hank. "Of course not."
Then, both Hank and Sarah turned to hear laughing coming from the back room, where Trainer was supposed to be getting a useful description from the girls.
Hank and Sarah shot each other a look and hurried back to the girls' room. When they got there, they saw Trainer showing the girls some stupid youtube videos of cats doing crazy things.
"Oh, look at this one," Trainer was going on. "This stupid cat thinks he can talk. Watch this..." and the girls just laughed and laughed.
"Iris! Sunflower! What are you doing? Jack?" She shot Trainer an accusing look.
"Oh yea, sorry about that, Miss Darcy. It's just... they were a bit scared, is all. Just trying to lighten the mood, you know," he explained.
"It's like him!" shouted Iris.
"Yea, him! Stubble, just like that. Gray stubble. Ewww, dirty," chimed in Sunflower.
"How old are they?" Hank asked Sarah, confused to see teenage girls acting like little kids.
"I know. I know, they don't act their age. Iris is thirteen, Sunflower is sixteen," the mom explained, with an exhausted look on her face.
"So, you started the app then?" Hank asked Trainer.
"Yea. Started it, got a few things down, but they got scared. They got stuck at the hair and stuff," explained Trainer.
"Okay," Hank started in with the girls. "So, the guy had gray stubble like me. How about his hair? Short cropped like mine, or longer and wavy like Jack's?"
"Jack's!" Iris perked up with a smile. "But gray, like yers."
"Yea!" said Sunflower. "But wavy and longer like Jack's!" she exclaimed.
"Okay Jack," Hank said. "Plug that into the app and lets see what we have."
Jack Trainer was so happy to be useful. It took his mind away from the beautiful woman and her distracting cleavage. He plugged in the new data and an image came up on the ipad.
It showed a white male, probably in his forties, wearing a blue baseball cap. He had tufts of gray hair poking out from under the cap, and scruffy gray stubble on his chin.
"Perfect," said Hank. "This will help us a lot. Thanks so much, girls. We really appreciate it."
"You're welcome!" they both exclaimed in unison as they rushed Trainer and gave him a big hug.
Trainer became a zombie again for a couple seconds. Not knowing what to do. "Okay, okay. That's enough now. Henry and I have to get back to work. Nice meeting you two," he finally said and stood up from the stool he was on. "You two be good now," he said as he walked out the door.
The girls said "Bye!" in unison and the adults walked back into the living room.
Hank handed Sarah a card and said "In case you think of anything else that might be useful. Please don't hesitate to call. Any time. Day or night."
"Of course. Sure. Let me give you my number as well," she said, but Hank interrupted her.
"Already have it. Got it from Mr. Glass at the Dairy Queen. I'll be sure to call you as well, if I have any more questions," Hank said.
Trainer just stood by the front door. As Hank flirted with Miss Darcy, Trainer could have sworn the two of them were about to hug, or even kiss. Hell, maybe they were just going to do it right there on the coffee table.
But Hank just said goodbye to Miss Darcy, and soon enough Trainer and Hank were back in their unmarked car, ready to call it a good days work.
"Iris and Sunflower?" Hank asked Trainer as they drove off in search of a hotel.
"Tell me about it," answered trainer and they both had a good laugh.
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DISCLAIMER: This is fiction, you fucking idiots. It's just a goddamn story.
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