Link to [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24]
A short search through the bathroom cabinets yielded what he sought: a bottle of ibuprofen. He wrestled open the bottle and shook two onto the counter, downing them along with most of a glass of water and eyeing the shower. He felt filthy, but wasn’t sure how to take a shower without getting his hand wet—and he was sure that would hurt like hell.
On the other hand, the steam would probably ease the scratchiness in his throat.
He sighed and tapped the counter with his closed fist in frustration.
A few minutes later, he wandered into the kitchen. A note was prominently stuck to the refrigerator:
Good morning. I’m at the office, and Cynthia’s on call at the hospital. You’re welcome to anything you find in the kitchen. If nothing looks good, takeout menus are next to the microwave, along with $40. You can repay me when you regain access to your bank account. If you need anything, you know my number. Jack.
Cutter sank into a chair at the table, thinking. The note had reminded him of several problems, the most pressing of which was the fact that he was, in practicality, broke.
And the fact that he needed to cancel his credit cards.
And the fact that he needed to replace his driver’s license.
And his debit card.
And his badge.
And his Bar Association card.
He dropped his head to the table, feeling overwhelmed.
A moment later, he sighed and sat up, pulling the note off the refrigerator. He laid it face-down on the table. Locating a pen after a brief search, he began to make a list.
High on the list was replacing his BlackBerry.
Link to [Part 26]