Securing the Key

Night fell, so I marched back inside through the screen door, carrying the brass key I confiscated earlier. A proper officer needs an evidence locker, not just pockets. I scaled the wooden rungs of the living room bookshelf until I reached the top shelf beside the warm glow of the desk lamp. Right there sat an empty ceramic teacup. I dropped the heavy metal key inside with a crisp clink. It sits safe and accounted for on high ground. Perimeter is secure, evidence is locked down, and my shift is properly wrapped up.