Easy Like Sunday Morning

The last day in Omaha was just the sort of Sunday I like best...lazing in a sun-filled room with nothing-for a while-to do.

I made breakfast.

We drank coffee and, because we are the sort of detectives who are the job, further discussed the case of the stone baby. JP made a copy of the police drawing so I could do some sleuthing back at the Seattle bureau.

At first we were discouraged by news that the coroner was on a golf junket in Cincinnati, thus stalling an autopsy until his return on Tuesday. But there's a lot to be said for old fashioned police work without all the fancy forensics. You see, there was something about this case that bothered me. Our suspect was too obvious. It occurred to me that there was another player with motive and opportunity. We texted our theory to Det. Smay and Agent JP was charged with following up some leads.

That done, I started collecting my things and then an examination of my ticket revealed that we had an extra hour before my flight. Huzzah! One more hour to sit, drink mimosas and talk.

I told JP that he should probably pick a fight with me so it would be easier to leave. This he did, right in front of the TSA guy in the airport. It was excellent. Then I gave him a big hug and kiss and that was that. And, as I mentioned before, as the plane taxied down the cornfield runway, I started to cry.

The flight(s) home were largely uneventful, except for the part where I was misinformed in Minneapolis as to the location of my gate and ended up having to book it all the way from the A concourse to frakking gate 13 in the frakking F concourse which was 412 miles away. I got to my gate just as they were boarding. That was a close call.

It would have been nice to have had some transition time at the house; I thought I was going to get some. But the family returned within minutes of my arrival and suddenly I was back in the whirl of regular life, making dinner and talking about the week ahead. And maybe that was ok. It is my real life, after all, one I enjoy. And after my time in Omaha I felt recharged and ready for it. A good vacation will do that for you.

Thanks again for the wonderful time, JP. You are the bestest host and the bestest friend and I loved every minute of our adventure. I heart you, Poodle. Now, get me that report.