The Flanagans of Fairfield County, Connecticut - Chapter 17
Cromstock’s hacking, persistent cough could be heard from every corner of the third floor at the police department. Detective Lang had been listening to it since 6:00 a.m., and with the clock showing noon, unable to drown the noise out with the soothing sounds of Miles Davis, he finally spoke up.
“Crommy. You gotta go home. Take care of that cough. I can’t think listening to that anymore.”
“I’m fine, Tom. I’ve got this DayQuil and I think I’ve hacked up most of the mucus already.”
“Jesus Christ. Are you serious? DayQuil doesn’t even treat a cough. It treats symptoms of a cold or flu. You look like hell, Crommy. You need Robitussin. And you need to get the fuck out of here. You’re driving me and everyone else on this floor crazy. Please. Take the rest of the day,” said an exasperated Lang.
A few minutes later Detective Cromstock was out the door and headed home, finally leaving Tom in silence to pour over the transcript from the short interview he had conducted with Ellen Flanagan.
He wasn’t considering Ellen as a suspect just yet, his mind clouded by the strange, seductive phone call he had received the night prior asking him to join her in her hotel room. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since it had happened. Lang had never considered getting out of bed and actually going over there, but it was flattering nonetheless.
He had neglected to tell Cromstock any of this information when they got to the station that morning because if he was being honest with himself he wanted her. And it wasn’t just that Ellen Flanagan was an attractive older woman.
It was the risk factor involved that really got him going. He was married, yes. His wife was pregnant with his child, yes. But he hadn’t had another woman in so long he liked the idea of carrying on some sort of illicit affair, perhaps in a back room at the station or in a crummy hotel on the outskirts of town.
Tom looked around the office and saw his fellow investigators working diligently, not a one of them paying attention to what he was doing. Tom pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, tapped on his recent call list and found Ellen’s number. He copied that number into a blank text message box, typed “Hi Ellen - please give me a call when you get this. - Detective Lang”, and pressed send without a moments hesitation.