The sun was almost down as Leanne plopped onto the foot of her bed, her messenger bag over in the corner by her desk where her pile of essays sat, already finished. She had an entire break to finish them and look what had happened. Hours left alone in this house gave her too much time, and she hated it. She looked over at the clock, hoping that it was late enough to expect her father home, but the time had betrayed her and it was still too early.

She laid back on her bed and stared up at her powder blue ceiling, her lips an unhappy frown as her stomach began grumbling, telling her that it was time for dinner. She sat up and touched her bare feet to the wood floor of the bedroom, walking over to the door, heading down the hall, and over to the side where the steps leading down to the kitchen were. She browsed through the pantry, the fridge, and the cupboards, deciding what it was she'd make exactly. After peeling potatoes, putting them in a pan of water to boil, she put on her favorite music and began singing to it, swaying her hips a bit as she began making taco dip. Her father's favorite. It'd still be as fresh for him when he came home to it.

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Officer Willis closed the file in his hands, handing it over to the secretary. She offered him a professional, business-like smile with a hint of natural friendliness. She placed the file in her arm with others from the other cops, holding it to her chest as she motioned her head towards him. "We need you to talk to him."

"Seriously?" Officer Willis asked as his face scrunched. "I'm no detective, Judy. And besides, it's my birthday, I gotta get home to Leanne...

The secretary blinked, nodding her head. Of course they had a secretary here. It was a police building for the elite police officers of the city. But she said nothing more and that was enough for Leanne.

"He's in with the commissioner."

"Why?"

He stopped asking anything else when Judy hurried off before him, as if she had been summoned there herself and needed to be there for him. He sighed and followed after her. The office was nearly dead with men either on their breaks or people in other places of the building, no doubt. He opened the door to the commissioner's office to find all the other officers and workers in there, with their hands up in the air.

"Happy Birthday!" they sung for him, motioning towards a big birthday cake to share between everyone, a sign hanging on the window behind the commissioner's desk reading: "Happy Birthday Rick!"