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The back looked even worse than the front. I could make out the red outline of her thong just above her slip of a skirt, and if I had to guess, a cell phone tucked into the back so-called pocket.
Nice.
“There you go; is there anything else I can help you with?” BB asked.
We waited patiently as the woman backed up and walked back to her car, not even giving the men entering into one of her properties another thought.
“Umm, is that your cat?” Sebastian asked worriedly, looking up at the window ledge of her apartment.
Adeline cursed soundly when she saw her cat leaning out the open window to her apartment. She disentangled herself from the snake, and thrust the beast into my hands before taking off at a sprint.
Now that was the type of ass you should be looking at and appreciating, I thought.
“The last time someone asked you to hold their snake it was that transvestite at the bar in Minneapolis.” Sebastian observed lightly.
“Fuck off,” I said as I held the large snake in my hands at arm’s length.
“Give it to me and go check out the apartment. Be careful.” He ordered.
Handing the thing off gladly, I walked slowly into the apartment.
It was cluttered.
Furniture lined the walls from one side of the doorjamb to the other, and in some places pieces stood two deep. In fact, there was a couch in front of a couch that had a coffee table in front of it.
This could almost qualify as hoarders, furniture style.
“Benton Fire Department!” I yelled once I cleared the first room.
After not hearing a reply, I cleared the kitchen, and then went to the back bedroom.
The smoke was thicker in the hallway, meaning whatever was done, was done in the bedroom area. Which explained why it was coming up through Adeline’s floor.
“BFD!” I yelled again.
Then had to control a snicker. It got to me every single time.
BFD-Big Fucking Deal! Just kidding.
After getting my inner giggles under control, ‘cause apparently it wasn’t manly to giggle, I walked into the first bedroom and sighed.
We had a stiffy.
Reaching for my radio, I called over the airwaves. “Stiffy.”
“Copy.” Sebastian confirmed.
How did I know it was a stiffy? The man, who’d obviously been enjoying his weed based on the fifteen joints just in thefirstashtray, was doing the thousand yard stare, and not from the high he’d gotten.
The thousand yard stare, in the medical field, was roughly based on a dead person having that ‘look;’ the one where there wasn’t any life left there to give their eyes ‘depth.’
This man was sporting that look, not to mention that his chest wasn’t moving.
“What the fuck man, you said he was dead, not that he was murdered.” Dallas whined.
“Stiffy means dead. And he’s dead.” I replied dryly.
“Well, shit.” Dallas sighed. “Now we’re going to be sitting here until the parish coroner gets here. Who knows when the fuck that’s gonna be. It’s Friday night, you know my poker nights are always on Fridays.”
