Bedtime Story: Silver and Scotch – Night 27
Silver and Scotch
Copyright 2015 by Barbara Hinske
Jim Harrison rolled to the side of the bed and answered the phone before it completed the first set of rings. He never knew when his daughter would need his help. The chemo ravaged his grandson’s body and left him terribly weak. Scott couldn’t be left alone, but at least the treatments were working.
His bedside clock told him he’d only been asleep for a couple of hours. Harrison checked the identity of the incoming call. It wasn’t his daughter. He couldn’t place the 912 area code and almost didn’t answer. It was probably some cursed telemarketer, interrupting the few hours of sleep he would be able to catch that day. Something—some dormant instinct—caused him to pick up the handset and answer.
“Detective James Harrison? This is Detective Dewey Grant, of the Savannah Police Department. We’ve had a burglary down here and could use your help. I think you’ll be real interested in this one. I understand you’re the expert on silver thieves.”
Jim sat bolt upright, all vestiges of sleep evaporating. “Let me get a pen and paper,” he replied. “I’ve been expecting this call.”