(Duct tape)

“Damn it!”

Carlton swears as the bookshelf falls apart in his hands, the duct-taped nails and studs tumbling to the floor in disarray. Kicking them his gaze falls onto the clock.

6:23 pm.

For once he's home early. On time. There are no cases or last minute stakeout’s tonight. He promised her he’d by home by six and he is.

Yet his car sits alone in the driveway.

The duct tape feels heavy in his hands as he stares at the broken shelf.

Try as he might, nothing in the house seems to work anymore.