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Authors: Anthony Bidulka
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with the woman. Honesty or clever lie? Clever lies are much more fun.
I adjusted my earmuffs against the coming cold. Little did I know I was about to have more to worry about than the
temperature. I didn’t see it coming.
As I stepped from my vehicle into the street, I was hit from behind by a force so brutal, I was plowed to the ground.
I never stood a chance.
Chapter 5
I’d never imagined what being run over by a vehicle would be like. Now I didn’t have to imagine. That’s what it felt like as I lay there, face smashed against pavement, blood running down my cheek, a heavy weight pushing down on me, a nauseating
feeling bloating my stomach.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The words were spoken so close to my ear, I could feel them rumble around in
my ear drum like bingo balls.
Wait. I recognized that voice.
I hadn’t been the victim of a hit-and-run after all. I’d been taken down by yet another big hunk of steel—Constable Darren
Kirsch. I realized two more things. First, the blood wasn’t coming from some near fatal contusion. Rather, the cat scratch on my cheek, which had reopened when I hit the ground, was simply expressing its distress.
Second, the heavy weight pushing down on me was Kirsch, who’d fallen on top of me. Now, I must admit, this was not a
scene (sans the blood part) I hadn’t fantasized about once or twice over the years. Although he’s a big lug who may have been raised in a barn, Kirsch is still a bit of a hot number—if you’re into the Burt Reynolds from Smokey and the Bandit type. But there’s a time and place for everything. This was neither.
Cursing under his breath, Darren hoisted himself up, and with his ham hock hand helped me up too. I was expecting more
swearing. Instead he threw an arm around me and dragged me away from the scene, like a freed hostage at a bank robbery.
When we finally came to a stop around the nearest corner of the block, I spun away from his grasp and asked as politely as I could: “What the hell is going on here?”
In an uncharacteristically gentle move, the first thing the human dumbbell did was raise a hand to touch my cheek. I nearly
recoiled, thinking the guy was gonna bitch slap me or something.
“I’m sorry about this,” he whispered, inspecting the cuts on my face. “You should have that looked at. I’ll call someone.”
Call someone?
My eyes moved away from the cop. I slowly took in my surroundings. The street had been cordoned off at both ends. Within
the perimeter were at least three police cars, an ambulance, a fire truck, and several other vehicles. There were cops milling about everywhere. What…?
I turned back to Darren. I debated not telling him that the blood was actually from a cat scratch, and not from his unprovoked attack on an unsuspecting citizen of the city he’d taken an oath to protect. But that didn’t seem very nice, so I told him the truth.
“Have somebody look at it anyway. You may have gotten some dirt in the wound. You don’t want it getting infected. It might
ruin your online dating prospects.”
And evil Darren was back.
“But for now, let me repeat,” his eyes grew smoldering. “What the fuck are you doing here?” When an answer wasn’t
immediately forthcoming, he blabbed on: “Here we are, not quite finished cordoning off the streets, when who do we see
driving into the restricted area, but our happy-go-lucky local private dick, Russell Quant. Now tell me what’s wrong with that picture? Quant, why are you here?”
“Why are you here?” Not great, but it was the best retort I could come up with.
He’d had enough. “I am two seconds away from slapping cuffs on you for obstruction of justice.”
“Ohhhhhh, how Law & Order of you.” I wasn’t too happy about things either.
We glared at each other.
Although it smarted a little, I gave in first. “Obviously, we’re here for the same reason. Lynette Kraus lives here. We both think she had something to
I adjusted my earmuffs against the coming cold. Little did I know I was about to have more to worry about than the
temperature. I didn’t see it coming.
As I stepped from my vehicle into the street, I was hit from behind by a force so brutal, I was plowed to the ground.
I never stood a chance.
Chapter 5
I’d never imagined what being run over by a vehicle would be like. Now I didn’t have to imagine. That’s what it felt like as I lay there, face smashed against pavement, blood running down my cheek, a heavy weight pushing down on me, a nauseating
feeling bloating my stomach.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The words were spoken so close to my ear, I could feel them rumble around in
my ear drum like bingo balls.
Wait. I recognized that voice.
I hadn’t been the victim of a hit-and-run after all. I’d been taken down by yet another big hunk of steel—Constable Darren
Kirsch. I realized two more things. First, the blood wasn’t coming from some near fatal contusion. Rather, the cat scratch on my cheek, which had reopened when I hit the ground, was simply expressing its distress.
Second, the heavy weight pushing down on me was Kirsch, who’d fallen on top of me. Now, I must admit, this was not a
scene (sans the blood part) I hadn’t fantasized about once or twice over the years. Although he’s a big lug who may have been raised in a barn, Kirsch is still a bit of a hot number—if you’re into the Burt Reynolds from Smokey and the Bandit type. But there’s a time and place for everything. This was neither.
Cursing under his breath, Darren hoisted himself up, and with his ham hock hand helped me up too. I was expecting more
swearing. Instead he threw an arm around me and dragged me away from the scene, like a freed hostage at a bank robbery.
When we finally came to a stop around the nearest corner of the block, I spun away from his grasp and asked as politely as I could: “What the hell is going on here?”
In an uncharacteristically gentle move, the first thing the human dumbbell did was raise a hand to touch my cheek. I nearly
recoiled, thinking the guy was gonna bitch slap me or something.
“I’m sorry about this,” he whispered, inspecting the cuts on my face. “You should have that looked at. I’ll call someone.”
Call someone?
My eyes moved away from the cop. I slowly took in my surroundings. The street had been cordoned off at both ends. Within
the perimeter were at least three police cars, an ambulance, a fire truck, and several other vehicles. There were cops milling about everywhere. What…?
I turned back to Darren. I debated not telling him that the blood was actually from a cat scratch, and not from his unprovoked attack on an unsuspecting citizen of the city he’d taken an oath to protect. But that didn’t seem very nice, so I told him the truth.
“Have somebody look at it anyway. You may have gotten some dirt in the wound. You don’t want it getting infected. It might
ruin your online dating prospects.”
And evil Darren was back.
“But for now, let me repeat,” his eyes grew smoldering. “What the fuck are you doing here?” When an answer wasn’t
immediately forthcoming, he blabbed on: “Here we are, not quite finished cordoning off the streets, when who do we see
driving into the restricted area, but our happy-go-lucky local private dick, Russell Quant. Now tell me what’s wrong with that picture? Quant, why are you here?”
“Why are you here?” Not great, but it was the best retort I could come up with.
He’d had enough. “I am two seconds away from slapping cuffs on you for obstruction of justice.”
“Ohhhhhh, how Law & Order of you.” I wasn’t too happy about things either.
We glared at each other.
Although it smarted a little, I gave in first. “Obviously, we’re here for the same reason. Lynette Kraus lives here. We both think she had something to
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