Free Bad Thoughts by Dave Zeltserman

a thick finger at Shannon as he walked away. “You need it bad.”
           “You know, it really doesn’t look good—” Jacoby started.
           “Shut up,” Shannon ordered under his breath as he turned to face him.
           “A little touchy, aren’t we?”
           Shannon turned and saw Captain Martin Brady standing over him. Brady’s pudgy face was set in an unhappy frown.
           “Yeah, maybe a bit,” Shannon admitted.
           “Bill, let’s talk,” he said and then turned and headed to his office in the back of the squad room. Shannon, not having any choice, followed him. DiGrazia was waiting for them, sitting impassively, barely looking up as his partner entered the office.
           Brady went behind his desk and sat with his hands clasped in front, his eyes staring, unblinking. “You’re having a rough time, are you?”
           “Just got sick for a moment, some type of virus, I think.”
           “Is that so? Maybe you could use some time off?”
           “I’m okay now. Nothing to worry about.”
           “Well, now, I think there is something.” Brady showed a troubled smile. “Joe has been suggesting that two weeks of rest would do you a world of good. I agree with him, Bill. I’m going to put you on two week’s short-term disability, effective immediately.”
           “You have no right.”
           Captain Brady didn’t bother to say a word. He just continued staring at his detective, his smile showing some strain.
           “I’m going to the union with this,” Shannon threatened. “You have no cause to force me on leave.”
           “I’m not talking about a leave of absence. Only short-term disability.”
           “You’ve got no cause!”
           “Absenteeism would be a damn good cause,” Brady said, nodding slightly. “Unprofessional demeanor. Intoxication—”
           “I haven’t been drinking a damn thing!”
           “Looks drunk to you?” Brady asked DiGrazia.
           “Stinking drunk,” DiGrazia answered.
           “And that’s from your own partner.” Brady sighed. “Bill, I’m trying to do you a favor. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. At best, all you’d accomplish with a union protest would be to embarrass yourself.”
           “I’ll be fine, you don’t have to do a thing—”
           “Yes, I do. There’s a pattern with you, Bill. A weird pattern, but a pattern nonetheless. It’s become pretty damn obvious.” Brady lowered his voice into a conspiratorial tone. “I’ll be honest, if you weren’t such a damn good cop I’d’ve bumped you from the force years ago. It’s kind of unsettling the way you fall apart a few weeks every year. But you are a damn good cop. Smart, determined, you keep your caseload moving. It would be a damn shame to have to lose you. So take the next two weeks off, relax, maybe go to Florida with the wife. Enjoy yourself.”
           Shannon had his eyes closed tight. He shook his head slowly. “You don’t understand—”
           “It might help if I did, but I don’t suppose you’d tell me?”
           Shannon opened his eyes and stared helplessly at his commanding officer. After a long silence he shook his head. “There’s nothing to tell.”
           “I suppose not. Joe, why don’t you take Bill home, see that he gets there okay. Give his wife a call also.”
           “Sure.” DiGrazia stood up, continuing to avoid eye contact with his partner.
           Shannon took a deep breath and then stood up and forced a smile. “Well, Marty,” he said. “I guess I’ll be seeing you in two weeks.”
           “I certainly hope so. Send us a postcard.”
           The two men left the office in silence. As Shannon passed through the squad room he could feel his fellow officers staring at him with a mix of curiosity and