The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom And Erica Falck, book 7)
“‘No, not yet,’ said Annika. She started to say something else, but Paula was already on her way to the kitchen, eager for some coffee in a clean cup after spending all morning in the filthy homes of drug addicts. Just to be safe, she nipped into the toilet to wash her hands thoroughly. When she turned around, Martin was waiting his turn.
‘Great minds think alike,’ he said with a laugh.
Paula dried her hands and stepped aside to make room for him at the sink.
‘Shall I pour you a cup too?’ she as...ked over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.
‘Sure, thanks,’ he shouted over the sound of the water gushing from the tap.
The coffee pot was empty, but the hotplate underneath was red-hot. Paula swore, switched off the coffeemaker, and began scrubbing the black residue in the bottom of the pot.
‘It smells like something’s burning in here,’ said Martin as he came in.
‘Some idiot took the last drop of coffee and then forgot to turn off the machine. Wait a few minutes and I’ll make a fresh pot.’ ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup myself,’ said Annika behind them.MoreLess
‘Great minds think alike,’ he said with a laugh.
Paula dried her hands and stepped aside to make room for him at the sink.
‘Shall I pour you a cup too?’ she as...ked over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.
‘Sure, thanks,’ he shouted over the sound of the water gushing from the tap.
The coffee pot was empty, but the hotplate underneath was red-hot. Paula swore, switched off the coffeemaker, and began scrubbing the black residue in the bottom of the pot.
‘It smells like something’s burning in here,’ said Martin as he came in.
‘Some idiot took the last drop of coffee and then forgot to turn off the machine. Wait a few minutes and I’ll make a fresh pot.’ ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup myself,’ said Annika behind them.MoreLess
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