"What do you mean you're not coming with us?"
Sheriff Emily Wyatt looked disgruntled, glancing at George Woodman to see if he shared her anger. As usual, he did. York sighed internally, but kept his face stoic.
"I'm sorry. I need to look into something else first, but I'll meet you there."
Neither of his coworkers looked happy, but York had found in his time at Greenvale that he could rarely please them. Everything he said seemed to come off as rude and abrasive, though that wasn't necessarily his intention. His main objective here wasn't to make friends anyway; solving the murder of Anna Graham was much more important.
Before they could argue further, York gave them a slight wave and turned his back. As he walked to his personal police cruiser, he heard them getting into their own car and driving off. A light drizzle had started, and Sheriff Woodman squealed the tires on his way out of the parking lot.
"He probably did that on purpose, Zach."
York opened the door and settled into his car, shutting out the rain. It seemed to rain all the time in Greenvale, and for hours at a time. He was getting sick of it personally, and planned to put his rain poncho on before he got back out.
"How can they think a murderer comes out when it rains? It rains multiple times a day. The whole town would be dead, don't you think, Zach?"
He adjusted the rearview mirror, running a hand through his hair to shake the rain droplets away. "No matter. Let's go to Anna's residence and speak with her mother before we follow Sheriff Wyatt to the lumber mill. She may have some information about Anna that can help us out."
York glanced at his watch. 1900. He was exhausted from a full day of work, and the end didn't seem to be in sight. The roads themselves even posed a problem. The long, winding streets made him prone to highway hypnosis, and he hoped the sheriffs wouldn't mind a few dings in the car from where he went on a little impromptu offroading.
Turning the engine on, he let the heater dry him off, contemplating his next move. "I can spare a few minutes of rest." He reasoned with himself, slouching in the driver's seat and closing his eyes.
He unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, loosening his tie to get more comfortable. Then the hand slipped further, massaging through the crotch of his suit. York opened his eyes, mildly surprised.
"Do you really think we have time for this, Zach? I mean, if you think it's a good idea then I guess we can, um.." York stopped his reasoning halfway through, hearing the response without any words: you need to learn to switch off.
York moved his other hand from its signature position by his ear, untucking his shirt to slide his fingers across his abdomen. He pushed his hips into the other hand palming his groin through his pants. Arousal warmed him better than the heater could, reaching the tips of his fingers and toes.
He closed his eyes. "Zach, you know I hate it when you tease.." The hand on his chest tweaked a nipple fondly before undoing his pants and pulling his erection free from his underwear. York exhaled, moaning under his breath when his hand wrapped around his dick and pulled gently.
He used his other hand to relieve the pressure of the elastic, cupping his balls and rolling them between his fingers. The rain outside had grown stronger, and the cacophony of water hitting the car filled his ears.
"Mmm Zach," York murmured, stroking his cock and spreading the precum gathered at the top. He spat in his hand to help it along. "Remember that time when we did this while I was driving? It was the… ultimate of multitasking, in my opinion. Very fun."
Spreading his legs, he pushed his pants off his hips to give himself more freedom of movement. He put his left hand back by his ear to rest against his cheek, hardly even noticing as he did so. Old habits die hard.
He stroked himself faster, alternating rhythms so that he was always slightly caught off guard. "You're so good at keeping me on my toes, Zach. Mmmgh.." He arched off the seat, tipping his head back.
To get himself there, he fantasized. In the end it was the image of Thomas' face between his legs, mouth open and ready, that got him off. York spasmed, clenching his teeth as he came, and only afterwards moaning as he caught his breath.
He opened his eyes to see the mess he'd made, one gob even making it up to the roof of the car. "I think it's impressive, don't you, Zach?" he chuckled.
Cleaning everything up with a tissue and tucking himself back away, York took note of his surroundings. The windows had fogged up, and he'd wasted 20 minutes. He double took when he glanced at the dashboard.
"11% gas? I just filled up this damn car. The gas mileage here is criminal.. just like the gas prices! I guess we have one more stop before we make it to the lumber mill, Zach."
He headed for the gas station, hopping the curb as he drove recklessly into traffic.