Read Online Hollywood Tough (2002) by Stephen - Scully 03 Cannell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen - Scully 03 Cannell
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thought he was your friend. It was just a thought."
"Well, it's a shitty thought," Shane said angrily, and walked out of the kitchen into the living room. Although he felt a strong sense of gratitude toward American Macado, Shane was also afraid of him. Not in the way men on opposite sides of the law usually fear one another, but in a more personal way. He'd always suspected that there was still a deep bond between Chooch and Amac, which was stronger than Chooch had let on. Shane feared that if Amac ever called out to Chooch for help, his son would drop everything and respond, that his son, out of some sense of brotherhood or Hispanic loyalty, might be drawn back into that dangerous world. Even with Chooch on the verge of going to college, Shane still feared it.
But at Magic Mountain, Amac had looked at Chooch and warned him, Don't get off the gate. Don't come back into this. Then he had said, "Tti no quieres mi vida loca." You don't want my crazy life. So maybe Shane could kick a sleeping dog, just this once, and get away with it. He was a cop; people were dying. He had a duty to try to find out what was going on.
Shane turned and walked slowly to Chooch's room. He hesitated for a moment before he knocked.
"Yeah," he heard his son call out.
"Got a minute?" Shane asked as he pushed the door open. This had once been a guest room; now it was Chooch's territory: floor-to-ceiling pictures of him playing football, school artwork--freehand sketches of huge, Doom-like monsters, dragons with bat wings--good drawings but a little off-putting. Over his dresser were the required posters of Shakira and Jennifer Lopez along with a collection of Harvard Westlake prom night photos.
As Shane crossed the room and sat on the bed, Chooch quickly turned over his essay and laid it facedown on the desk. Shane experienced another moment of annoyance, but pushed past it.
"What is it, Dad?"
"Do you ever hear from Amac?" Shane asked. "American?" Chooch's eyes went a little shady and he glanced away.
"Yeah, American. You ever hear from him? He ever call you or anything?"
"Gee . . . uh . . . I don't think so . . ."
"Gee, uh, you don't think so?" The males in this family are shitty liars, he thought. "Here's the reason, okay?" "Sure."
"You know your mom's handling all this gang violence that just started, the killings they're talking about on TV." Chooch nodded.
"At first she thought it was going to be a shootout between the Bloods and Crips, but now it looks like La Eme is in the mix."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And I was thinking if you had Amac's number or some way to contact him, maybe I could try and get in touch. I need to talk to him. He might be getting into something dangerous."
"You told me not to have anything more to do with Amac."
"Yeah, I know. I just thought--"
"That I'd disobey you?"
"Well, not disobey, exactly . . . I thought on his birthday, or yours, maybe you guys still got in touch."
There was a long silence. This time Chooch held Shane's eyes, but said nothing.
"Okay . . . How's that essay coming?"
"It's . . . I'm still working on it."
"Am I ever gonna get a chance to read it?"
"Well, thing is, I I. . ." and he stopped.
"Forget it . . . talk to you later."
Shane left the room. Whether it was the conversation about Amac, or because his feelings were hurt over that damned essay, Shane was definitely off balance. He almost turned around and went back in to talk with his son again, but then at the last moment decided not to. He pulled himself away from Chooch's door and moved down the hall and out into the backyard.
Alexa was sitting there, looking at the canal. She had two beers and gave Shane an Amstel Light as he sat down next to her.
Shane reached into his pocket, took out his shield, and handed it to her. "Forgot to tell you, Captain Haley returned this to me today."
She took it, rubbed her thumb over the badge, and smiled. "Y'know, I never would have thought I was going to marry a cop. On balance, cops are such
"Well, it's a shitty thought," Shane said angrily, and walked out of the kitchen into the living room. Although he felt a strong sense of gratitude toward American Macado, Shane was also afraid of him. Not in the way men on opposite sides of the law usually fear one another, but in a more personal way. He'd always suspected that there was still a deep bond between Chooch and Amac, which was stronger than Chooch had let on. Shane feared that if Amac ever called out to Chooch for help, his son would drop everything and respond, that his son, out of some sense of brotherhood or Hispanic loyalty, might be drawn back into that dangerous world. Even with Chooch on the verge of going to college, Shane still feared it.
But at Magic Mountain, Amac had looked at Chooch and warned him, Don't get off the gate. Don't come back into this. Then he had said, "Tti no quieres mi vida loca." You don't want my crazy life. So maybe Shane could kick a sleeping dog, just this once, and get away with it. He was a cop; people were dying. He had a duty to try to find out what was going on.
Shane turned and walked slowly to Chooch's room. He hesitated for a moment before he knocked.
"Yeah," he heard his son call out.
"Got a minute?" Shane asked as he pushed the door open. This had once been a guest room; now it was Chooch's territory: floor-to-ceiling pictures of him playing football, school artwork--freehand sketches of huge, Doom-like monsters, dragons with bat wings--good drawings but a little off-putting. Over his dresser were the required posters of Shakira and Jennifer Lopez along with a collection of Harvard Westlake prom night photos.
As Shane crossed the room and sat on the bed, Chooch quickly turned over his essay and laid it facedown on the desk. Shane experienced another moment of annoyance, but pushed past it.
"What is it, Dad?"
"Do you ever hear from Amac?" Shane asked. "American?" Chooch's eyes went a little shady and he glanced away.
"Yeah, American. You ever hear from him? He ever call you or anything?"
"Gee . . . uh . . . I don't think so . . ."
"Gee, uh, you don't think so?" The males in this family are shitty liars, he thought. "Here's the reason, okay?" "Sure."
"You know your mom's handling all this gang violence that just started, the killings they're talking about on TV." Chooch nodded.
"At first she thought it was going to be a shootout between the Bloods and Crips, but now it looks like La Eme is in the mix."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And I was thinking if you had Amac's number or some way to contact him, maybe I could try and get in touch. I need to talk to him. He might be getting into something dangerous."
"You told me not to have anything more to do with Amac."
"Yeah, I know. I just thought--"
"That I'd disobey you?"
"Well, not disobey, exactly . . . I thought on his birthday, or yours, maybe you guys still got in touch."
There was a long silence. This time Chooch held Shane's eyes, but said nothing.
"Okay . . . How's that essay coming?"
"It's . . . I'm still working on it."
"Am I ever gonna get a chance to read it?"
"Well, thing is, I I. . ." and he stopped.
"Forget it . . . talk to you later."
Shane left the room. Whether it was the conversation about Amac, or because his feelings were hurt over that damned essay, Shane was definitely off balance. He almost turned around and went back in to talk with his son again, but then at the last moment decided not to. He pulled himself away from Chooch's door and moved down the hall and out into the backyard.
Alexa was sitting there, looking at the canal. She had two beers and gave Shane an Amstel Light as he sat down next to her.
Shane reached into his pocket, took out his shield, and handed it to her. "Forgot to tell you, Captain Haley returned this to me today."
She took it, rubbed her thumb over the badge, and smiled. "Y'know, I never would have thought I was going to marry a cop. On balance, cops are such
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