Free Donna Joy Usher - Chanel 01 - Cocoa and Chanel by Donna Joy Usher

figures.
    Daniel and I filed out of the room and looked around the hall. ‘Left or right?’ I said.
    ‘Left,’ Daniel replied.
    I wasn’t sure if he knew or if it was a good guess but we turned left and sure enough found a large room filled with desks and phones. There were three other police already in the room; one was making coffee while the other two were pulling donuts out of a large box. I got a couple of things out of that. The first was that that there was a Krispy Kreme donut shop nearby and the second was that I was going to have to find a gym.
    The man making the coffee looked up when we walked in. ‘You,’ he said pointing at me, ‘Heads or tails?’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Heads or tails?’
    ‘Heads,’ I said.
    ‘Congrats. You’re the new coffee girl.’ He put the cups down and walked over to the donut box. I had a feeling that even if I had said tails I would have lost.
    ‘Hi yourself,’ I said. There were two empty desks with large manuals sitting on them. The one located conveniently near the urn and fridge had my name badge sitting on it which bore out my suspicion about the heads and tails game being fixed. Daniel’s desk was on the other side of the room. Typical.
    ‘Let me guess,’ I said, looking at the man, ‘it was a two tailed coin.’
    He chuckled sheepishly.
    ‘Fine,’ I said, taking up the cup, ‘but there better be some donuts for me.’
    After I had learnt their names – Bob, Nathan and Mark – and made their coffee, nobly resisting the urge to spit in it, I sat down with my donut and started to leaf through the operations manual. It was thick, and I’m talking doorstopper thick. The sort of thing that was guaranteed to put me into a temporary coma.
    ‘Old Ramy’s got you reading that has he?’ Bob said. He was positioned at the desk closest to me.
    I nodded my head. ‘I’m thinking I can carry it around with me as a weapon.’
    ‘What about your Glock?’
    ‘My clock?’
    ‘Your gun. Haven’t you been issued with it yet?’
    ‘No.’ I mean I knew we were going to have weapons, and we had done the appropriate training on course, but now that the moment was finally here I was more than a little scared. What if I shot someone? I mean I know there was a chance throughout my career that I would be forced to shoot someone in the line of fire. But what if I shot the wrong person? Or more embarrassing, what if I shot myself? If I didn’t kill myself I’d be laughed off the Force.
    ‘Right, well, we better get that sorted,’ Bob said.
    Daniel hadn’t been fitted out either, so Bob put himself in charge of us for the morning and drove us into town where the weapons and uniforms were held.
    ‘Have you started the first assignment yet?’ Daniel asked me during the drive.
    ‘Sure,’ I lied. In truth I had been putting off the moment I started the one year of study I still needed to complete before I could lose the probationary part of my title, Probationary Constable. Never having fully read the course information it had come as quite a shock to me after graduation.
    Two hours later I was the proud owner of a Glock 22. I also had handcuffs (I was looking forward to using them), capsicum spray, an expandable baton, a portable radio and a first aid kit.
    ‘Where on earth do we keep all this stuff?’ I said.
    ‘Here,’ Bob handed me a belt and then looked me up and down. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, taking the belt back. He returned a few minutes later with a vest. ‘The circumference of your waist is too small to house everything.’ He pointed at his own expansive girth where his belt easily held all of the required items. ‘This will work better for you and you’ll be more comfortable.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I spent the next hour back at the station arranging my vest, working out the best way to house the assortment of goodies I’d received in its pockets. Unfortunately after that it was back to the drudgery of reading the manual. I amused myself by playing