A friendly cop?
I returned to bed. These and other thoughts swirling around in my head.
I slept fitfully and awoke at eight. Over oatmeal and toast, I went over my thoughts from the night before. In the daylight my mad-dash trip to the pharmacy seemed like a stupid idea. They wouldn’t have told me anything new.
What can I do that the police can’t do?
Tom Hydell. A guy I went to school with was a cop. But is he still one. I guess there’s only one way to find out. Back to the phone book, then I remembered that the police aren’t listed. Ok, then, his parents. Only three Hydells in the book, thank goodness. The second call connected. I explained I was an old school chum of Toms, after a brief chat, his mother gave me his phone number.
Tom’s wife answered the phone. I gave her the same pitch I’d given his parents, and she told me that Tom was working the night shift and wouldn’t be home for another hour. I thanked her and left my number.
Tom called me at ten fifteen.