It's been two weeks, and my shaggy blonde dumpster diving pal has not made another appearance.
After the last sighting, I did in fact go to the cops and tell them what I'd seen. It felt strange to visit the police department and not get paid for it; every time I've been there before, I've been picking up reports for the newspaper. I half expected the ladies at the front desk to hand me the basket of papers, but I'd never seen them before, and I haven't covered their town for close to two years anyway.
I thought they'd brush me off, but actually, the gatekeeper lady who they make you talk to over the phone (I guess so they can get your information and run a background check on you before actually looking at you) admonished me for not calling right away when I first saw the guy . In fact, the tone was almost accusatory. I wasn't sure whether to be glad I decided to come in, or sorry.
Anyway, the cop I talked to face-to-face agreed that it was probably a medical center janitor but said he doesn't typically work the overnight shift, so he's not as familiar with the cleaning crew schedules of area businesses as the cops on that shift are. He also said that it's unlikely someone looking for medical records or financial information would find anything, as doctor's offices usually shred these things before throwing them away. Still, he took as much information as I could give him and said he'd share it with the officers on the overnight shift so that they could swing by and keep an eye out. He also said that if I saw the guy again, I should give them a call right away so they could check it out.
Well, there's been no sign of Shaggy and no word from the cops (although they never said they'd keep me updated). I did, however, see a report in the local paper about a shaggy haired blonde guy raping a woman in a neighboring town. It could be a coincidence, but that still hasn't stopped me from holding the door open while Stella pees so we can get inside quickly when she's done.
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