Sick Leave

[jla_extras]

But not really. But what do you tell your mother in the nursing home or your 11 year old daughter you only see once every two months if the ex is feeling generous about why you are home from work and reassessing your life and work of the last 2 years. Sure, he knew they didn't keep managers there for long. Nobody was there for long. The why

Comments

[det_montoya]

Someone's askin' questions now. A woman with dark brown hair enters his office. The door is open. She walks right in. Slung over a chain hung around her neck is a badge. GCPD. Montoya. She's not happy to be back in the Bowery. That much is clear on her expression.

She raps her knuckles on the door after the fact. Procedure. "Joseph Books?"

[jla_extras]

He looks around his office. The only reason he's here is to do payroll. It's a scummy place to be, but getting unemployment is a pain.

"Here."

GCPD really cleared everything out of here except him a desk and a pen. Even the carpet was taken for luminal testing and there's the smell of a worked over scene Montoya will be very familiar with.

For his part Joe Brooks is in shape, balding, and otherwise non-descript as he sits as his desk looking both resigned and ashamed. He's been expecting this.

[det_montoya]

Her eyes roam over the emptied office before traveling back to the man behind the desk. If anything, he looks less thrilled to be here than she does. Quite an achievement.

"Detective Montoya. I've got a couple questions." She pulls a small notebook from her pocket.

[jla_extras]

"Of course you are," he sighs. "I'm just making sure everyone gets paid beofre I write myself out of a job. "Please, have a seat and sorry about the smell," he notes tacturnly.