Chapter Sixty-Six
Jake
Eight hours. The dashboard clock isn’t moving fast enough. Eight hours until I can wrap my arms around Emily and kiss her senselessly. And see that little pumpkin seed. It amazes me that she has gained nearly a pound in less than a week. How’s that even possible?
Lights from an approaching vehicle flash in front of my cruiser. Ten minutes ago, Todd, one of the boys I met at the park, and his mom passed by going in that direction. Like a good student driver, he had his hands in the correct driving position. Here’s hoping his car remained in one piece.
I grin as the vehicle gets closer. I remember when my mom took me out to learn to drive. And one day, Emily and I will do the same with Grace.
But it isn’t Todd’s mom’s SUV. The vehicle is lower to the ground, likely a car. An Oldsmobile. I grip the steering wheel as the smile drops from my face.
When I drove by Chad’s house two hours ago, his car was in the driveway. He’s not stupid enough to take the car out again, is he?
Yes, he is. It’s Chad. The sun has set, but I can still make out his features as darkness hasn’t thrown everything in shadows. I shift the cruiser into drive.
As he drives by, his attention remains focused forward. Unnaturally forward as if he’s hoping I don’t notice him. In a supped-up Cutlass. Driving right in front of me. The last thing this world needs is for this man to procreate.
I ease off the brake, flip on the dash camera, and ease onto the street behind him. Expired tags. As always. I hit the lights and siren, and dust kicks up behind his tires. He’s running.
My heart pounds as adrenaline courses through my veins. Chad spins around in the middle of the street barely missing my bumper, causing me to slam on the brakes. He continues in a half skid down the street, headed straight for the gravel roads.
I hit the mike button on my radio as I conduct a controlled spin. The last thing I want to do is cause an accident in a residential neighborhood when I know the fleeing suspect.
“This is Officer Thompson in pursuit of an Oldsmobile Cutlass, expired tags, east bound on Hawthorne Lane, preparing to turn left onto Elm Avenue. The driver fled when I tripped the lights and siren. The driver is Chad Whitlock.”
“10-4. I’ll take Main Street and meet you in the middle of Elm Avenue.” Ramirez answers back on the radio.
Chad fishtails on the gravel road as a plume of dust blocks my vision.
The good things about gravel roads are there’s less traffic, and when it’s dry, you can see upcoming vehicles from a mile away.
The bad things are the sharp corners, steep hills, limited visibility, and unsuspecting people and animals.
Unfortunately, it’s not unusual for people out here to be parked in the middle of the road with the understanding that everyone who lives in the area knows why they’ve stopped. Not that Chad cares if he puts others at risk. He doesn’t.
With each corner and hill, I pace behind him while keeping my attention searching for stray deer, skunks, and racoons. None of those will look good as hood ornaments. And skunk smell is impossible to get out. Emily would ban me from coming home.
Home? Home is wherever she is, but I’d prefer for her to move in with me.
Surely, she’ll see the benefits of moving into a three-bedroom house from a two-bedroom apartment with no space for a growing baby.
Even if my place is in the middle of a construction project.
If they live with me, that’ll give me more motivation to complete the renovations in record time.
And I won’t need to go back and forth to her place.
In the distance, there’s the faint glow of light as night grows closer. I didn’t realize we’d gotten this close to returning to town. I’ve got to get him before he hurts someone.
Chad slides sideways as he takes the curve, driving onto the grass, and nearly wiping out a fence. The tires spin as they dig into the weeds, until a chunk of dirt and grass flies toward my windshield.
His tires catch, and he’s off again, shifting from the left to the right and back again. What’s wrong with this guy? He slings dope, so it’s not like he’s broke. He can afford a ticket. Hell, he can afford to license the damned Cutlass in the first place.
Unless…. He’s carrying.
As if on cue, something flies from the driver’s side window as I shoot in a skid around the corner Chad just passed. There is an oak tree fifteen paces into Hamilton’s pasture. And to the right, there’s an elm tree. I zone in on the location of the potential drugs while staying on Chad’s tail.
With Chad remaining on the loose, I can’t afford to stop and retrieve the discarded item. After pressing the mic button, I relay the location of the contraband.
From two hills in front of us, lights flash into the sky. That should be Ramirez. Fingers crossed he’s dropped a spike strip.
Chad races forward, oblivious to his impending doom. The lights stop and turn. Shit. That’s Reginald Hardin going home.
Where’s Ramirez? Should I go back and retrieve the contraband? At this rate, I’m not going to catch Chad on my own.
With each quarter mile, he pulls farther ahead. Shit. I might as well go back and find what he threw out the window. We’ll catch him at home. I ease my foot off the gas.
When Chad crests the hill, he loses control. The car’s ass end slips to the left, and he corrects it before careening to the left again. Then, the lights stop as if he’s landed in the ditch.
Red and blue beams flash on in Hardin’s driveway. Ramirez. He laid down a strip spike and flipped the lights off so Chad wouldn’t suspect anything.
As I crest the hill, Chad jambs on the gas and tries to reverse back onto the road, but with his tires deflating, he’s not able to gather the momentum he wants. The door flies open and that’s when I notice the line of vehicles on both sides of the road.
Xavier’s pickup. Dominic’s car. Kaleb’s Jeep. Those are the closest ones that I can make out as I slide out of my cruiser. The rest, and there are many of them, are too far away to recognize in the dark.
I pull my weapon and aim it toward Chad. “Chad Whitlock, you’re under arrest.”
Chad takes off in a run, until his boots fly out from under him after three strides, and he crashes to the ground on his hands and knees with a resounding thump.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” Xavier says with a smirk as he kicks the end of a second spike strip that they’d managed to lay down as fast as a NASCAR pit crew changes a set of tires. Doors slam in a steady cadence as neighbors and friends approach and surround us.
“Chad Whitlock, put your hands behind your back.” Surprisingly, my voice is strong and showcases none of the unease of my breathing while training my weapon at him. “You’re under arrest for fleeing from a police officer.”
“Fuck you.” Chad glares from his kneeling position.
“Thank you, but I’m not interested.”
“Bite me.” He’s up and lunging toward me before I can take a step back as Xavier, Dominic, and Kaleb take up spots around him, eliminating his options for escaping.
“I wouldn’t try to run if I were you.” I brace my free hand out in front of me while keeping the one with the weapon pointed in his direction. If he bullrushes me, I’ll lay his ass out.
“Don’t make a move, asshole,” Ramirez growls from behind Chad with his gun aimed at the back of his head. A cow moos from the adjacent pasture.
“I told you not to drive this car, but you couldn’t stop yourself, could you?”
“It’s legal.”
“Why lie?” I inch closer as Ramirez shifts from foot to foot as if itching to pull the trigger. Apparently, he’s not as concerned about everyone getting chunks on them. Chad stops in place, holding his hands up in front of himself.
A cow moos again. This time, it’s a loud bellow at our intrusion of its peaceful evening. Another cow responds as a cold chill cuts through the night.
“Shit, Jake,” Xavier drawls as a mewing sound follows the next moo.
“A pasture with night approaching might be creeper than a back alley in town. At least, in an alley, all we’d have to contend with is a giant rat.
Here? Who knows? A deer? A feral bobcat?
A rabid squirl? Seriously, it’s going to get creepy as fuck out here. ”
A coyote howls his displeasure to war with the cows.
“I didn’t choose the location, dumbass.”
Dominic sniffs loudly and glares at Chad. “Dude, did you shit your pants?”
“Fuck you,” Chad spits out as hooves clamor toward the fence, followed by snorts of increasing disapproval.
Several of the other bystanders cluster into groups, talking animatedly as Chad backs down from his potential assault.
These guys haven’t seen this much action in their lives.
Or at least, not anytime in recent history.
Brookhaven isn’t known for its crime sprees, vehicle chases, and vigilante backup.
“Remind me not to come to your rescue again. This guy stinks.” Kaleb’s nose wrinkles with distaste as he slides closer to Dominic. Between the five of us, he has no hope of getting away.
“He did shit himself.” Dominic shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Hands behind your back.” I have no idea if he’s bluffing or telling the truth, and I have no desire to find out. I’m sending Chad back with Ramirez.
As I slip a cuff around Chad’s wrists, I recite his Miranda Rights. He yanks me toward him, knocking me slightly off balance, and prompting Ramirez to grip his other arm.
“Don’t move, pussy. I’d love to take you down,” I growl into his ear while twisting his arm behind his back until he squeals, and I snap the second cuff into place.
“Fuck off.”
I shove him toward Ramirez. “What did you toss?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Are you sure?” I shove the gun back into my holster as Ramirez grips Chad’s shoulder while tugging his arms into a position that’ll bring instant pain if he tries to flee.
“I want a lawyer.”
“Well, shit, Jake.” Xavier crosses his arms over his chest. “I thought he was too stupid to know to ask for a lawyer even though you just told him that he could ask for one. I bet his dad is so proud of him.”
Chad’s eyes bulge in rage as he lurches toward my friend.
“Don’t tease him. He’s having a bad day,” I say with a chuckle. “He’s likely to have a heart attack out here. I think I heard a cat a few minutes ago. Don’t those things eat the eyes out of people if they’re left lying on the ground?”
“I’ve heard that,” Kaleb pipes up. “There could be a rouge pig around here also. I know they eat the shit out of bodies, leaving them almost unrecognizable.”
Dominic laughs and slaps Kaleb’s shoulder while looking at me. “I thought we weren’t teasing this asshole.”
“Who said we’re teasing?” I jerk my head toward Ramirez’s cruiser.
“Take him back to the station. I’ve got to head back to the site of the drop so we can stack another charge on this prick.
Too bad we cuffed him so soon. We could’ve got him for assaulting a law enforcement officer if we were lucky.
But drug charges on top of fleeing is going to put him away for a good ten years. ”
Chad clears his throat with a loud hacking sound and spits.
The offending liquid lands on my jaw and slides down to the button that holds my collar in place.
“There we go.” I can’t stop the grin from forming on my lips as I step closer.
“That’ll get you another ten for assault on a law enforcement officer. ”
“Fuck you.” Chad drops his weight forward and headbutts me in the chest.
Fucker. My eyes sting with a blinding white light, but I don’t stop the smile from curving up my lips as I wink and step back. “That’ll be another ten. As I said earlier, I’m still not interested. Ramirez….” I tip my head toward his cruiser. “Take him on back to the station.”