During the ride there’s a guy walking around the car, he says he’s homeless and he’s asking for help. Looks like he’s in pretty bad shape and I see that he’s got an infantry tattoo through the rips in his shirt. I give him a few bucks and ask him to sit and tell his story. I give him my coat and tell him I’m going to Open Arms for Vets and ask if he wants to come along. He agrees and we exchange war stories on the ride over.
There’s two ladies working at OAfV when we get there. I tell ‘em that I called this morning and I brought a friend. One of them says that a bed just opened up and there’s hot food. Randy perks up at that and goes with her to get situated.
I make a bit of small talk with Maggie, the receptionist. She provides the name I’ve been missing thus far, Max. There’s a picture of him cutting the ribbon to open this place. He looks short, with a mop of blonde/brown hair and he’s a bit chubby. The smile on his face looks genuine enough. Maggie tells me that Max wanted to honor his grandfather, Leonard, who served in WW1. She gives me a run down of the services offered, all of which are free by the way. Seems like a nice enough place. Looks clean and there’s a handful of people here.
Before I leave I stop in and check on Randy. I want to make sure he’s going to be alright. It’s funny I don’t even know the guy but the fact that he served forges a bond between us that most people wouldn’t understand. Randy’s happily chowing down on what might be the best meal he’s had in a while. We chat for a little bit and he says he’s going to be alright. I tell him to call me if he needs anything and give him the rest of my smokes and another 10 bucks to get him going.
As I’m getting ready to leave an announcement comes across the radio, Max Sullivan, son of the new mayor, has been missing since Sunday. He went out for a jog and never came back. Damn, I think, this case just got a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more complicated than Bill. The news creates a bit of an uproar in the office which Maggie does her best to quell. I offer a few hollow sounding platitudes before heading out to try and figure out my next move.