Chief Flory seemed a bit bewildered.
He rubbed his forehead, "My head might have suffered a blow, I can't quite remember everything, just that you left quickly, I struggled to follow, and then I saw a man with a mask holding a child, I chased after them, and fought with him..."
Brian looked at Chief Flory's not so abundant hair and said leisurely, "Why didn't you draw your gun?"
It was a decades-old habit.
Whenever there was trouble, drawing their guns was the first reaction of these veteran cops.
"Right, why didn't I draw my gun?"
Chief Flory repeated dumbly.
He was no longer the fiery young man he had been over thirty years ago, so why would he rashly engage in physical combat?
It didn't fit with his usual approach!
Before Brian gave him a chance to think further: "What did the man look like?"
"Very tall, wearing a black mask, I couldn't see his face clearly..."
"What color were his pants?"
"Pants... they were a dirty pair of jeans."
