I dress down; lightweight khakis and a T-shirt that’s large enough to conceal my firearm and the magazine pouch attached to my belt.

I need to do something. I can’t sit around all day and mope, ’cause that’ll just send me on a bad binge.

After I recover, I get in the car and drive to Riggs Street.

I pass the alley north of Riggs, rear of Grandma’s house, and notice a marked cruiser parked behind it, blocking the alley. I make the right on Riggs and see another cruiser parked along the curb in front. They’ve secured the residence.

I slide the passenger window down while pulling out my wallet. So I don’t spook him, I roll up beside him with my wallet extended toward the window, opened to reveal the badge. He takes notice, rolls down his window. I slip my wallet back in my pocket and lean toward the passenger window.

“Hey, Officer. Frank Marr. I’m a retired DC police detective.”

“You look too young—”

“Took an early out. Better opportunities, you know.”

“I get that. Wait—I heard of you,” he says with a smile.

“That can’t be good,” I say jokingly, but not really.

“No. I was in the academy with Joe Hurley.”

“Hurley. Of course.”

Why would he talk about me?

“We were at the FOP a couple of days ago. He mentioned you because of all that went down at your house, and a stolen gun.”

“Fuck. So now everyone knows?”

“Naw, it ain’t like that. He was just putting the word out is all. Had some possible suspect named.”

“Graham Biddy.”

“That’s right.”

“You know him?”

“Never heard of him.”

“They recovered the gun, you know.”

“That’s a good thing,” the officer says.

“Not for the guy whose body it was found on.”

“Shit.”

“No worries. Just another mope. By the way, the reason I stopped is I was passing by on my way to work and noticed the unit in the alley rear of this house, and now you in front. Anything in the neighborhood I need to worry about?”

“Home invasion gone bad. Drug-related. Back door was pried open, so we have to secure the scene until it gets fixed.”

“Man, I worked narcotics when I was on the job and never had anything come up for this block on the radar.”

“Fuck, man, every block in this city’s got something.”

“You said gone bad, though.”

“Huh?”

“You mentioned it was a home invasion gone bad.”

“Bad enough for the two fucking brothers to get the holy shit kicked outta them. Unfortunately, they’re still breathing.”

I chuckle.

“Damn, that is unfortunate,” I say, feeling just the opposite. “So now I suppose they’re in the hospital taking taxpayers’ money ’cause they’re not insured.”

“Got that right. Fucking waste of my time, too.”