"Want something boy?" The officer barked.
"I—I think I need help," Tom said, voice wavering. "I think I need to get out of this town."
The officer's stern gaze softened immediately, and he put down the pen he was holding. "Come here, what's your name?"
Bryan introduced himself and shook the officer's hand. Red hair glinted on the man's arms under the station's fluorescents. "I'm Officer Pete. Follow me around back and let's see what we can do for you."
The officer sounded genuinely sympathetic, and so despite his intimidating appearance, Bryan followed him behind the counter and down a hallway to a small meeting room. Bryan took a seat at the table and Officer Pete sat across from him, after stopping by the kitchen to grab a glass of water and put it in front of Bryan.
"Take a deep breath, take a drink, and tell me what's going on," said Officer Pete with what struck Bryan as surprising tenderness, considering the situation. Bryan did as instructed, and began to recount his trip to strange seaside town.
"And that's why I need some help getting out of here," Bryan finished. "No offense of course."
The officer stoked his short beard and chuckled. "No offense taken. Really, this happens once in a while. We have a well-defined protocol for helping out guys in your situation."
Bryan felt so relieved. He sighed and took another deep sip of the water. "What's the protocol? What do I have to do?"
The officer smiled again, this time with a hint of mischief in his eyes that Bryan didn't understand. "Well, you've started already," he said, gesturing to the now-empty glass of water.
As Bryan tried to figure out what the big man meant, the officer walked to the open door of the room, shut it, and locked it.