help.”
“My pleasure.” Wes closed his phone and looked at it in amazement. “I can’t believe it. This is working out better than I hoped.”
“No holding out on me when you finally get your dick slick, big guy.”
Wes snorted. “Right, I’m going to tell you .”
“You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”
“Said the guy who told me, what…” He checked his watch. “…ten minutes ago how he satisfied his wife last night.” Wes shuddered. “Sometimes less is more, my friend. I hope to hell I don’t see Vickie for a while because I don’t think I can look her in the eye. And knowing what I know now, through no fault of my own I might add, I’m not even sure I can face your daughter. As little as I care about Becca’s Campfire Girls, I’d still rather hear about that than what you do to her mother in the bedroom.”
“But that’s the point. I tell you about my sexcapades. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you. I seriously don’t want to know your hairy details.”
“You’re not nearly as fun as Barber,” Chuck said ruefully, referring to his former partner as he hung a left across the intersection.
“Remember that.”
Wes eased back in his seat and reviewed Lauren’s call with a contented smile. He couldn’t believe how good it felt that she’d turned to him. Whether she planned it that way or not she’d just given him another excuse to see her again. He was determined to chip away at Lauren’s dislike, her distrust, and hopefully gain his own place in her life apart from his sister.
Then, as if a switch was thrown inside of him, Lauren’s call was forgotten and Wes’s entire body tensed. His eyes narrowed as he read the plate on the car ahead of them. “There it is.”
Wes grabbed the radio. “Durban 2460, we have a 10-32 Code 9, driving a blue, late model Ford Taurus plate TZY431 northbound on Fisher Junction. Request backup.”
“Copy 2460. Be advised, there may be children in the car.”
“Copy.”
Their lights and siren went on as they closed the distance. The driver glanced in his rearview mirror, but he continued to drive for half a block before finally pulling alongside the curb. Chuck pulled behind him.
Unsnapping their holsters and drawing their weapons, they threw their doors wide and took cover behind them.
“Put the vehicle in park and step out of the car with your hands on your head!” Chuck yelled.
The man placed his left hand on top of his head but his right arm remained hidden and the brake lights burned bright.
“Out of the vehicle now!” Chuck yelled again.
Still no compliance.
Wes tried. “Think of your kids, Mr. Carter. Shut off the engine and exit the car calmly and no one will get hurt.”
Without warning the sedan spun its wheels and barreled back into traffic, narrowly missing a Honda Civic.
“Shit!” yelled Wes, and they jumped back into their car.
Chuck flipped on the siren and gave chase while Wes got back on the radio, giving an update and the direction they were heading.
The pursuit ended three minutes later when Carter swerved to avoid a bus and plowed into a fire hydrant instead. A sweet smelling steam from the radiator gysered out of the crumpled hood and the man laid his head against the steering wheel and wept, his sobs almost as heart wrenching as the crying coming from the backseat.
Wes ran to check on the two young kids while Chuck hauled their father out from behind the wheel and threw him down on the hood.
Wes’s first concern was to assess the condition of the children and keep them calm. He opened the back door and squatted down to their level, giving the distressed kids a reassuring look.
“It’s okay,” he told them, using his voice and presence to distract them from the arrest of their father.
“Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked, her voice breaking.
“She’s waiting for you.”
“Is Daddy in trouble?” The boy sniffled.
“Don’t worry about that right now. Let me see if you’re hurt.”
Wes
“My pleasure.” Wes closed his phone and looked at it in amazement. “I can’t believe it. This is working out better than I hoped.”
“No holding out on me when you finally get your dick slick, big guy.”
Wes snorted. “Right, I’m going to tell you .”
“You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”
“Said the guy who told me, what…” He checked his watch. “…ten minutes ago how he satisfied his wife last night.” Wes shuddered. “Sometimes less is more, my friend. I hope to hell I don’t see Vickie for a while because I don’t think I can look her in the eye. And knowing what I know now, through no fault of my own I might add, I’m not even sure I can face your daughter. As little as I care about Becca’s Campfire Girls, I’d still rather hear about that than what you do to her mother in the bedroom.”
“But that’s the point. I tell you about my sexcapades. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you. I seriously don’t want to know your hairy details.”
“You’re not nearly as fun as Barber,” Chuck said ruefully, referring to his former partner as he hung a left across the intersection.
“Remember that.”
Wes eased back in his seat and reviewed Lauren’s call with a contented smile. He couldn’t believe how good it felt that she’d turned to him. Whether she planned it that way or not she’d just given him another excuse to see her again. He was determined to chip away at Lauren’s dislike, her distrust, and hopefully gain his own place in her life apart from his sister.
Then, as if a switch was thrown inside of him, Lauren’s call was forgotten and Wes’s entire body tensed. His eyes narrowed as he read the plate on the car ahead of them. “There it is.”
Wes grabbed the radio. “Durban 2460, we have a 10-32 Code 9, driving a blue, late model Ford Taurus plate TZY431 northbound on Fisher Junction. Request backup.”
“Copy 2460. Be advised, there may be children in the car.”
“Copy.”
Their lights and siren went on as they closed the distance. The driver glanced in his rearview mirror, but he continued to drive for half a block before finally pulling alongside the curb. Chuck pulled behind him.
Unsnapping their holsters and drawing their weapons, they threw their doors wide and took cover behind them.
“Put the vehicle in park and step out of the car with your hands on your head!” Chuck yelled.
The man placed his left hand on top of his head but his right arm remained hidden and the brake lights burned bright.
“Out of the vehicle now!” Chuck yelled again.
Still no compliance.
Wes tried. “Think of your kids, Mr. Carter. Shut off the engine and exit the car calmly and no one will get hurt.”
Without warning the sedan spun its wheels and barreled back into traffic, narrowly missing a Honda Civic.
“Shit!” yelled Wes, and they jumped back into their car.
Chuck flipped on the siren and gave chase while Wes got back on the radio, giving an update and the direction they were heading.
The pursuit ended three minutes later when Carter swerved to avoid a bus and plowed into a fire hydrant instead. A sweet smelling steam from the radiator gysered out of the crumpled hood and the man laid his head against the steering wheel and wept, his sobs almost as heart wrenching as the crying coming from the backseat.
Wes ran to check on the two young kids while Chuck hauled their father out from behind the wheel and threw him down on the hood.
Wes’s first concern was to assess the condition of the children and keep them calm. He opened the back door and squatted down to their level, giving the distressed kids a reassuring look.
“It’s okay,” he told them, using his voice and presence to distract them from the arrest of their father.
“Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked, her voice breaking.
“She’s waiting for you.”
“Is Daddy in trouble?” The boy sniffled.
“Don’t worry about that right now. Let me see if you’re hurt.”
Wes
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