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 Just A Normal Day, Tagged: Colton Spade
Arturo Reyes
 Posted: Apr 14 2018, 07:33 AM
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Monday January 29, 2018

This department felt like a damn revolving door at times, very few passed through these doors only once and it was a scenario permanently stuck on repeat since Detective Reyes had left California and its three-strikes policy far behind five years ago. Adjusting to life in a quieter New England town like Stamford or Lochland Grove had been the culture shock of all culture shocks, everywhere he looked there were hardly any of his kind around here. At least in LA it had a high Latino population that hadn’t been so hard to get used to. Artie found himself translating, a lot.

He had only been here a few weeks but he and this building were no strangers, Lochland and Stamford collaborated in busts a handful of times over the years though he hadn’t exactly been a familiar face, he had more or less been a sort of acquaintance to his new brothers and sisters in blue once his transfer was finally complete a month ago, including the two weeks notice he had to give his old department. Now, he just hoped his wife stayed put for a while, it would be a shame to go through all this trouble just to pack up and leave again if Tina got the urge to relocate. His bigger problem was his rebellious son at the moment.

But today was Monday and all of that needed to move to the back burner for now, Arturo never talked about his personal life at work anyways, no one ever knew what was really bothering the quiet detective. To start things off with a bang he actually got to take a rare tour of Hartford to transfer a suspect to Lochland Grove for questioning on a case he was very much involved in. After three arson cases and large payouts from insurance claims taken out days before suspicious fires there was one common link, a young man by the name of Justin Meyers. Reyes brought him in at about nine, parading him to the holding area complete with handcuffs before he had even had his coffee. Meyers would be questioned later. Come noon he was involved in a small operation in the bad area of town to bring in three dealers, succeeding in bringing in two while the third was in the wind, also to be questioned later on the possible whereabouts of their friend. After a rushed lunch it was back onto the streets to question complainants of a neighborhood that had seen a recent brash in car break-ins, grunt work but it helped to break up the monotony of paperwork, Arturo would never complain.

Every time he brought in a suspect to book or turned in witness statements there was one constant to his day, the man behind the desk, Colton Spade. He was one of those faces Reyes saw often and felt like he sort of knew the guy until he realized he didn’t. The name was familiar, his department had sent their well wishes back in early 2016 in the form of a card and some money raised through community services and a bake sale to aid in the young man’s recovery after a horrible traffic accident that should have killed him. Arturo remembered reading of the details and wincing to himself, asking other officers if they thought the poor kid would ever walk again. He had been surprised to learn that the man behind that desk was indeed, Colton, how brave of him to have returned to work. He would have to sit down with him and have an actual conversation sometime, but that time, in the two weeks since he had arrived here to take up a desk on the floor of the department, had yet to happen.

He parked at his desk for a time, took a statement from a woman complaining that her apartment neighbor and former boyfriend would not return her casserole dish, another from a man stating an aggressive turkey was keeping his mail from being delivered and another about the department itself stating that too many officers had been involved in a minor traffic violation in front of his apartment the night before and the flashing lights had kept him awake.

Needless to say, Arturo needed an escape and after a short visit to the men’s room he ducked into the break area and occupied a corner with a cold cup of water and a sandwich he had stashed away in the fridge with a sticky note on it stating his name and that he had licked it so “don’t bother” stealing. It was fresh made at the local grocery store since it had only taken him about twenty-four hours to realize that relying on the vending machines here for snacks was ill-advised unless he wanted to wrestle the damn thing into submission every time he wanted a bag of chips. This station was far less funded than what he was used to.

At least it was quiet.


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Colton Spade
 Posted: Apr 14 2018, 11:28 AM
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His life felt like it had been non-stop lately. Mostly in thanks to his mother, his brother Dorien, and then Abel. It was just one thing after another. It had left very little time for Colt to indulge in getting entirely blitzed out of his skull. Well. That really wasn't hard to do when he was hanging out with Dorien or Abel, so long as they weren't leaving the house. Which lately the pair had been all about dragging him out of his house.

While at work, however, he couldn't exactly take as many pills as he could at home. He had to keep his head on straight enough to correctly process paperwork, to book people who were brought in, and had to look sober enough to not bring suspicious on himself that he were over medicating. He knew it wasn't exactly the best thing to have someone supplying him with pain killers he hadn't been prescribed, but Colton wasn't ready to face the fact there may be more surgeries in his future. He just wanted to feel better, and this was one way to do it. Besides, he was being careful, right? (Not really) And he would know when it was the pills running him instead of him running the pills...or..something like that.


The fact that his stomach was knotting up was dismissed as hunger, not withdraw. With hands placed on his desk he pushed his rolling chair back and swivel to the side, bracing himself on the desk as he stood up. His cane was left against his desk- he hated having to use it to begin with, but usually forced himself to go without it while at the station if he could help it. Not that it was really doing him any good. He made his way to the break room with only a slight limp. His brace was doing most of the work for him but had been set to allow only so much movement. Once in the break room he poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to sit down, lowering down into the seat much more carefully than the average person would. The seats were a little lower than his desk chair but it couldn't be helped.

The coffee itself was probably burnt but he couldn't be bothered to make a new pot. Working as a Police Officer had given him a stomach of Iron in most cases. Pill bottle was taken from pocket, two pills (the allowed amount) shaken out, knocked back with a sip of the warm coffee, and then the bottle put back in place. He had no intentions of walking around to 'stretch his legs' as most would have being seated for so long. But the change of scenery was mildly nice.... even if it were just him staring at a pile of old magazines on the table.

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Arturo Reyes
 Posted: Apr 14 2018, 09:06 PM
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Arturo stroked thoughtfully at the silvery edges of his goatee as he finished his sandwich, washing it down with the cool water and eyeing the vending machine where a bag of skittles and Lays chips hung on by the end of the spring, someone had been cheated it seemed but since the last time someone had gotten rough with the damn thieving machine it had cost the department repairs, no one was allowed to use brute force anymore if the stupid thing took their money. So there that salty and sweet combination hung, ripe for the picking, not tantalizing enough for the detective, he was perfectly fine with his turkey and cheese, rolling the pale yellow paper of the post-it note between his fingers until it was a tight little ball, leaving it on the table top next to the Splenda packets. It smelled like tuna fish in here despite the sign on the microwave asking employees to please not heat up any sort of fish in the break room for the courtesy of others. At least it wasn’t curry, Arturo hated the smell of curry. Come to think of it someone was really micromanaging this place with all the little signs everywhere; “wash your hands!” in the bathroom, “clean up after yourselves!” in the break room, “keep it appropriate” on that fun little bulletin board where cops could pin up photos of birthday outings and shit. Had to have been a woman, what man would care about shit like that and try to control literally everything?

His thoughts were sidetracked by the addition of Spade as he entered the room and took a seat, moving a little gingerly for a man his age, more like someone older than Artie himself. He didn’t eat anything, just sat and popped a few pills. Maybe this was as good a time as any to actually speak to him a little bit, find out how things were going. Probably not good … but it was a start,
“You should take those with water, Amigo.” he spoke up in a gruff and gravelly voice, deepened from feeling a bit tired at the moment, “Could give you ulcers.” he explained further, because telling someone not to do something and failing to tell them why was a good way to give ignored advice, “Since I assume you take a lot of those.” he knocked back the rest of his own water. Hell, Colton’s stomach was probably tough enough to handle it, being as young as he was, but Artie knew it would have completely different results on him, “How was your weekend?” change the subject to something that was hopefully a little more uplifting.



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Colton Spade
 Posted: Apr 15 2018, 07:41 PM
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“You should take those with water, Amigo.” The accent was just clear enough, or maybe the words just slow enough, for his pain and bodrum fogged mind to comprehend what had just been said to him. He looked up as the other finished with the reason why he should take his advice, and Colt followed that with a slow, tired blink. "Oh.." He lowered his gaze back to his coffee, wrapping his hands around it, "Yea... probably 'n," a worn chuckle broke his words up, "More than I'd like to admit." No, more than he would ever admit, but he didn't expect the Detective to take those words seriously. He recognized the man as Detective Reyes, who's face he seen sometimes several times a day at his desk.

But how was his weekend? As he considered his answer, a thing that took him very little time, Colt rotated the coffee mug in his palms, "It was alright." Thinking of the date he'd had with 'Novella' was almost enough to make him smile, but just not enough to beat his pains and tiredness away. Instead of a smile or a grin the corner of his lips twitched into a half-attempted smile before it fluttered away just as quickly. It had been a fun time, even if it were a blind date. They'd parted at the end of the night just outside the arcade. "Yours?" Polite conversation. That was about as much conversing as he did at the precinct these days. Mostly because he never had anything to talk about--- or usually he didn't. And now that he had started to get out of the house (more like be forced out), and he had things to talk about, he didn't really have anyone to talk with them about. Most of the Officers he had been friends with had learned after the two years of him shutting them out that there was little he wanted to do with others, and then upon his return they had all kept with that. Not out of rudeness, but just with the knowledge that he didn't leave his house much, and never felt like striking up a long conversation. So when they did stop over for a pip at the table, it was generally short and sweet.

Honestly he could have made more of an effort to be social at work once more, but he just didn't feel like it. This conversation would be much the same way if he could have his way with it.

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Arturo Reyes
 Posted: Apr 15 2018, 08:46 PM
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Spade seemed to accept the advice but Art would only know if it had truly stuck when and if he saw the guy taking his meds with water. Some people just didn't take advice from others, hell he couldn't count the number of times people had told him he should quit smoking. His fellow officer didn't seem to be having too bad of a day, even if his answer was short and sweet.

Drawing a deep breath, Arturo stood from his chair and balled up his sandwich paper, tossing it across the room where it bounced off a bulletin board and into one of the provided trash cans. Perfect bank shot. The breath was released in a manner which would suggest he was pleased with himself,
“Pretty good.” he answered and grabbed a chair across from Colton, he needed to get back to work but, eh who wanted to hear anymore stupid complaints today? Twisting the chair around on one leg he straddled it backwards, folding his arms across the top of the backrest, “Didn’t do shit on Friday,” leaning forward until two of the chair’s legs were off the floor he gave his weekend some thought, “too tired, they were doing construction across the street, slept through it.” he explained with the wave of his hand, “On Saturday I came in voluntarily, did some paperwork then went to a car show with Greg in accounting.” he thumbed over his shoulder to the hall that led into Greg's office, “Saw some nice ones, I like the muscle cars best, they sound like a lion.” he nodded with a smile, “Then Sunday, I go to church, then lunch with the family … then go home and think about today.” he seemed tired just talking about it as he slowly rocked back and forth on the rear legs of the chair.

“Did you really do nothing this weekend?” he asked, tilting his head as he awaited an answer he hoped would be a bit more in depth than Colton's last. It didn't seem like the guy talked to a whole lot of people, Artie was just giving him the chance.



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Colton Spade
 Posted: Apr 15 2018, 09:21 PM
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His short and sweet answer was quick and to the point. There, conversation could end with a 'Yeah same'. But instead of getting some kind of quick answer to his returned question, Colton was given a full schedule of what Detective Reyes had done for the entire weekend. He listened, though, and even sat back against his seat as the man continued. And then he asked if he had really done nothing all weekend. Colt decided extending the conversation past comings and goings wasn't going to kill him, and it would give him a few extra minutes away from his desk.

He shifted in the seat, already uncomfortable on the hard plastic, and leaned slightly to favor his left hip, resting his left arm on the edge of the table, "Well, no... I said it was alright, not that I didn't do anything." A long, tired breath was drawn in and the coffee cup slid towards the edge of the table. "'S.... Sunday my brother drove us out to New York... he had some," he made a slight motion with his right hand, then gripped the handle of his mug, "Stuff he had to do," Really Colton couldn't even recall what it was Dorien had needed to do in New York, or why he couldn't have gone alone. "Spent the day there." In the hotel mostly. He strummed the table with his left hand, shifted again, and began to lift his coffee mug for a sip, "Went out that same night to a local arcade." He left out the part of it being a date- a blind date at that- and that the woman he'd been set up with happened to be a local firefighter. He wasn't entirely sure they would be seeing eachother again with the exception of waving across the parking lots. There were just things that might come into play if they ever struck up a relationship, and sadly Colton wasn't entirely sure he could deliver those things.

It was hard enough bending down to put his shoes on. Thrusting would just be painful.

"Ah," He exhaled after a sip of the burnt coffee, "Friday and Saturday pretty much stared at the walls." A soft nod to the side, "Much more exciting when you use a laser to distract the cat." His stare had caught the pile of magazines again, mug poised below lips until he seemed to come back from his otherwise uneventful weekend and looked up to Reyes once more, "Usually Sunday's are family day..., dinner, church, all that." Well mainly the dinner part. Colt had long ago gotten to the point of saying he worshiped at home. He didn't want to be dragged down to the pulpit every Sunday or have people come and lay hands on him during prayer. He just... damn, didn't want to deal with it.

A short pause followed the most he'd said to anyone in the precinct in the past week that wasn't work related, and he ventured to ask the man another question, "Was the car show in Lochland? I hadn't heard anything about one."

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Arturo Reyes
 Posted: Apr 16 2018, 02:28 AM
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Arturo tilted his head with a very slight smile, it had certainly sounded like Colton had done nothing all weekend but as he went into detail the detective was glad he had pressed a little further for details. He watched and listened respectfully as Colton told of his exploits in New York, it all sounded very interesting, something he had certainly never done, just taken a weekend to go check out New York City. Attentively nodding and throwing in a quiet hum of understanding here and there. He seemed uncomfortable and Reyes wasn’t sure if that was a result of the conversation, the pain or possibly both but he was sure the younger man would cut things off if he needed to. It was good to hear he had family around he could spend his Sundays with, though, couldn’t imagine him going through what he had been through without some sort of support system in place.

“Good, good,” he nodded as if much more satisfied with the further details of this story than just “alright” sounded like it was much more than that. Sometimes listening to someone retell something actually allowed them to realize their story and maybe even their life was much more than they initially thought, if someone, a complete stranger, actually showed a real interest in it. Arturo liked to talk to people anyways, this was all very natural for him, an important part of his day to day life now that he was going home to a barebones apartment at the end of every shift, devoid of interaction of any kind, even laser obsessed cats.

“Uh,” a constant word of his vocabulary as his brain sussed through easily twice the number of words a monolingual mind contained, “no, it was in uh, New Haven.” he pointed across the table as the name of the town finally dawned on him, “Yeah, they hold this annual festival every year around this time, I forget why,” he waved a hand dismissively, that wasn’t an important part of the story, “lots of artists get together, sell their pieces, people sell food, so many talented people on one street for a weekend.” this seemed to strike something of awe in him, “But … I do not know if it is part of the same festival, because it is kind of on the edge of it, in the parking lot of a bank, just cars, everywhere.” he gestured with a wide, sweeping motion, “Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Corvettes, Mustangs, one Shelby 500 GT had Carroll Shelby’s uh, signature? On the visor in white ink, it was a beautiful car, muy bonita.” he could go on and on about this car show, they had looked at every single vehicle at least once, “Someone had a Model T too, one of the first cars, ever.” a little voice in the back of his head told him to stop before lulled Colton into boredom, “And a Mini Cooper, with the steering wheel on the other side and UK plates.” a half shrug seemed to suggest it was just something he found interesting but not necessarily impressive, “The guy driving it was huge, I do not know how he got in it, it was very, very small, smaller than uh, I guess American Mini Coopers.” anyways Arturo, change the damn subject, “Do you like cars?” … better?



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Colton Spade
 Posted: Apr 20 2018, 01:01 PM
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As Detective Reyes sussed through all those double words in his vocabulary, Colton took to fidgeting with his coffee cup once more. He tilted it side to side, watching it's dark contents creep just up to the lip of the mug before he tilted it in another direction, keeping the hot liquid inside. Ah, so the event was in New Haven. Colton now recognized the event he was talking about, and nodded with a soft chuckle, "New Haven, yeah, okay I know which it is. It's the Winter Arts Festival, the car show sounds like it's probably Cars and Coffee, they usually meet the first Sunday of every month but make exceptions if it falls close to festivals and stuff." He wet his lips, only briefly glancing up from his mug when asked if he liked cars.

This time he actually smiled, pressed out a breathy laugh, and shook his head, "Used too. More interested in racing them down the back road when the cops weren't looking," His smile melted into a smirk at the memory. There had been a number of times he, Dorien, and Abel had made their way down to the drag races that the local teens of the 'tri-town area' would orchestrate. It was always a gamble and just as risky- both for health and safety issues along with the looming risk of being arrested for illegal street racing. While he was prone to occasionally tearing down the backroads with the once-supped up engine of his Firebird, Colt felt it was far enough in his past to fess up to it without worry of being, what, busted for it? "Which is a little harder when half your family belongs to the police force for those three towns," He chuckled again, clearly enjoying the conversation, or was it the memories he enjoyed? Colton didn't think he'd ever forget the time his father and uncle came rolling up in two seperate squad cars to break the races up and ended up with Dorien in their head lights. Phew, he'd gotten into some shit kind of trouble. Colt was thankful his brother had taken the brunt of the punishment, even though he had confessed to being there as well later on. Rule one was not getting caught. Rule two was asking forgiveness from his father anyway, because he was going to find out eventually anyway. ... You did not lie to Jacob Spade.

After a few seconds he cleared his throat and dismissed the memories he found flooding him, finally lifting his mug, "Yourself?" An almost amused smile crossed his lips seconds before he sipped at the somewhat cooled life-blood of the Police Force. He could guess from the other man's small excited ramble about the cars before hand was a good indicator that he, at the very least, seemed to appreciate automobiles. The conversation and old memories had him feeling slightly better about his day-- for now at least. Give the paperwork a few more hours to grind him down. Pair that with the way no sitting position was comfortable and he'd probably be right back to his thousand yard stare self.

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Arturo Reyes
 Posted: Apr 22 2018, 07:11 AM
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“Ah, I will make sure to go again sometime.” it was nice to have locals to talk to, though Artie had lived here for a time it was odd to think about it but the only time he was ever in Lochland Grove, he was asleep. He had only gone after Gary invited him, in some attempt to befriend a detective, it had its perks, your cases get moved to the front of the line, strings get pulled, certain things get overlooked. The art festival made perfect sense, though, given the area.

“Ooooh,” so Colton had been a hellraiser at one time it seemed. Arturo wondered if his accident made him look at speeding cars any differently now, kind of ironic, like how that actor had died … what was his name? Oh, well, “It is good you have a lot of family nearby though, I never raced a car, but I have been in a lot of chases, we go sometimes … one-hundred, sometimes more. Too fast.” terrifying really, at those speeds, even the slightest movement of the steering wheel seemed to amplify the car’s response by about ten. The outside world became a blur and reaction time was reduced to hundredths of a second it felt like. Luckily Arturo had never been in any serious accidents.

Conversation at least continued, initiated by the initially apprehensive Colton,
“I can appreciate a nice car, I like to see an old car someone has taken good care of, there is a compassion there, you know?” he tried to explain. Might have been a manly thing, the love of an inanimate object like a car, but for some it was their pride and joy, “I miss my Charger, I had a nice Charger when I was LAPD, now I drive an Impala.” he shrugged a little disappointedly, “I did one time have a uh, 1970 Javelin, not the best, most popular muscle car, but kind of a rare car. I liked it, orange with black stripes,” he gave a tight lipped grin as if to indicate Colton would know where this conversation was heading, “The wife, she did not like it so much, I had to uh, get rid of it.” shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have let her have her way so easily but she had a good point, neither of them really made enough money to keep three vehicles at the time, “This was a long time ago, 1995 or ‘96 I think.” ugh, when did the 90s start feeling so damn long ago? “We were expecting our son, needed to save money, so it made sense.” he didn’t know how old this officer was but maybe he had a few nice cars in his history, perhaps? “What car have you owned that was your favorite?” hell, maybe he still had it and might like to give him a tour sometime.



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Colton Spade
 Posted: May 10 2018, 09:27 PM
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The story was one he'd heard before. Men giving up their dream cars for family. His father had been one, having to finally relinquish his favored 1973 Plymouth Barracuda when things apparently started to be a struggle for the growing family. Benny had been both a miracle and a test of faith in his birth, and things had just gotten all around tight for the Jacob Spade's then small family. The prized possession was given up and a short time later he had inherited the family home as his own parents moved back to Italy. Things got better after that, or one would at least assume considering Mrs. Spade decided to fill nearly every room with five more children following after Robert and Benny. But still. Yet in contrast, Colt's uncle Dustin had managed to hold onto his beloved '71 Chevelle. Probably because he had one child, in contrast to his brother's seven. When the conversation turned to what car he had owned, Colton chuckled slightly, "Same car I've had since I could drive... '97 Firebird, Emerald Green." Sometimes he considered trading it in or selling it off. Maybe get himself something that was a little more comfortable to get in and out, considering how low the Firebird sat to the ground. ... Except the idea of getting a regular Sedan just made his stomach knot.

"Has a crap ton of miles on it, putting less on it these days. But the body is mint inside and out." He was proud of that fact, especially considering the salt that was put out during the winter months could eat right through the body of any vehicle that came in contact with it and wasn't properly washed and cared for soon after. "All the upgrades, keeping it current. It could still cause enough hell on the backroads if it wanted." He only occasionally did that. Most days it was work to home and then bed, or these days getting dragged out with his brother or Abel. He added as he lifted his cup, shaking his head, "Maybe one day I'll have a story about selling it for all the right reasons." Maybe. Right now, his future even as a family man was looking kind of, ah, shaky. As many fucking blind dates as he had been on you would think that wasn't an issue, but Colton wasn't exactly in the mind set yet, you know? Too many of his own issues to get over at current, most pertaining to body image and restricted hip movement.

"Colton," Colton repressed the instinct to twist at the hips pretty easily and instead just twisted his neck to see over his shoulder, "Yeah." He'd recognize the voice before he had even looked, his Uncle briefly leaning into the break room, "You've got a customer." "Uh, alright. Thanks, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see me." Booking someone wasn't usually a big deal. Most of the time the person he was fingerprinting was either silent or complaining, but occasionally he got a hot one who thought attempting to take advantage of a handicapped officer was a good idea. His taser usually told them it was not. Dustin nodded, offered a polite nod in greeting to Arturo, and went on his way with whatever he had been doing previously. Probably escorting Colton's next 'customer' into the holding cell until they could be processed.

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Arturo Reyes
 Posted: May 20 2018, 11:33 PM
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“Oh, wow,” he seemed impressed Colton still drove his first car, “my daughter still drives her first car, bought it in ‘05, still runs well, she takes good care of it. I thought she would wreck it in the first year, my daughter she is uh … not very observant.” he made a circular motion with one hand to indicate his surroundings. Claudia was always lost to a world of dreams it seemed, eyes wide as her mind worked in the background. It terrified Artie that she would zone out while behind the wheel but she had surprised him, not one accident, “But I remember ‘97, the Firebird, when it came out, I thought … it looks like a car out of a space movie, like it will just take off and fly away.” it was the front end, the no visible headlights deal, that gave it that sleek, sci-fi look, “A friend of mine had one, I said … those headlights, they are going to get stuck.” it had been a legitimate worry, “I saw them going down the road all the time after that with just one headlight up, the other was stuck or not working.” he shrugged. Had he been a traffic cop he would have issued a few fix-it tickets but scarcely had time to worry of such things as a detective.

“Hmm, maybe.” Artie shrugged, from the sound of it Colton was in no hurry to sell the car for all the right reasons, he was still young, no need to necessarily settle down any time soon. He wondered if his mother was pestering him about it as mothers tended to do, assuming he had a mother to pester him. Before they could expand on the subject someone stepped into the break room. Figured, they had been away from their desks for more than four seconds, of course someone was looking for one of them, “Afternoon,” he finished off his water, “don’t want to keep your customer waiting too long,” he pointed out and then squinted warily at the door Colton’s uncle had just exited through, “I wonder if that is my customer … Norman Gilroy.” it was more to himself than to Colton, “Been looking for that guy for a few weeks.” he got up from the table and looked through the window but couldn’t see much for the blinds. Oh, well.



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Colton Spade
 Posted: Yesterday at 02:55 pm
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Colton had chuckled at the mention of the headlights on his year model car. "Heh, tell me about it. Those damn things like to get stuck at the most inopportune time. Usually when it's raining it's ass off or something." They had been interrupted by his uncle, and after the quick exchange Arturo mentioned he shouldn't keep his customer waiting, then wondered aloud if it were his customer he had been looking for. He had enjoyed talking to the Detective. Probably more than he thought he would- not for any particular reason such as race, ethnicity, whatever, but because Colton was just.... hell. He was kind of tired of interacting with people on a general basis and was so withdrawn these days. It was just easier to avoid talking than have to sit and make small talk with people. But it had been a nice conversation. A nice break from the day.


Colton looked into his cup and finished off any of it's contents, then set the mug down before he pushed his seat back carefully, "You're welcomed to come see." He picked up his cane and used it as an aid in standing, which looked to be painful if the twisted expression of such on Colt's face was any indication. Once he was finally up (declining any help if offered), he took a deep breath and put his right hand on his hip, squeezing softly as he looked towards the sink and squinted. Taking his mug to the sink was necessity. While his uncle may have worked there, his mother did not. Not that he expected his mother to pick up after him and she had sure as hell not raised him to think she ever had to pick up after him... but still. The thought of something as simple as crossing the room was just...painful.

Nevertheless he exhaled and looked down, picking his mug up, "Or, it'll be in the system in about forty five minutes." Processing did take some time afterall and the more the accused complained or made the situation difficult, the longer it would take.

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