Read Online Under a Raging Moon by Frank Zafiro - Free Book Online Page B

the passenger window. Then the tires chirped and the car sped away. Kopriva switched to the data channel and ran Morris’ name. He doubted that Morris had appeared in court on the drug charge. Maybe there was a warrant out for him.
    While he waited, Kopriva decided to see if he could plant a seed of trust. He picked up the marijuana pipe and opened the back door of the patrol car. “See this?” he asked Pete.
    Pete nodded.
    “Since you told me the truth about your name, I’m going to dump it and not charge you. Next time I talk to you, don’t lie to me.”
    “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
    “Don’t thank me yet. I found Meth in your console.”
    Pete winced. “Can’t you just dump the crank, too?”
    Kopriva shook his head. “A pipe is one thing. Nobody cares too much. Drugs are something else. People care about drugs. Especially meth. It’s a problem.”
    “Yeah,” Pete said mournfully. “I know. My niece just went through D.A.R.E. at school.”
    “Then you get what I mean. Besides, my sergeant is coming here. I think he wants to charge both of you.”
    “What? Hey, that shit’s not mine, man. It’s his.”
    Kopriva held up his hand. “I’m sure it is, Pete. I’ll try to talk him out of it, but this isn’t my normal se r geant. This guy is kind of a hard ass about drugs. So we’ll see.”
    “All right,” Pete said, resigned. “Thanks for chucking the pipe, man. Straight up.”
    “No problem.”
    Kopriva closed the door and walked to the sidewalk where a dutiful citizen had put out his garbage can. With a casual look around to satisfy no one was watching, he slipped the pipe into the garbage.
    Rousse sat on the sidewalk curb, looking dejected and angry. Travis stood behind him.
    Kopriva got his attention and asked, “Whose crank is that, anyways? You guys share?”
    Rousse sniffed. “Nice try.”
    “Nice try what?”
    “Whatever it is you found, it ain’t mine. Just like I said. So you can save your little cop interrogation games, all right?”
    Kopriva glanced at Travis. “He gets a little testy when things don’t go his way, huh?”
    Before Travis could answer, Rousse said, “Fuck you, man. I want to talk to my lawyer. His name is Joel Harrity.”
    Kopriva smiled. Harrity was a local defense attorney who crusaded against the police department. Most of the maggots who claimed to be a client couldn’t afford him.
    “What’re you smiling about, punk?” Rousse demanded. “I want to see your sergeant.”
    Kopriva shrugged. “People in hell want ice water. That don’t mean they get it.”
    Rousse glared at him, then shook his head. “Wha t ever.”
    Baker-122 arrived. Officer Anthony Battaglia climbed out of the passenger side. His partner, Connor O’Sullivan, remained in the vehicle.
    “What’s up, Stef?” Battaglia asked.
    “Got a warrant, found some meth in the car. That’s the driver,” he pointed to Rousse. “Can you transport him to jail for me? I’ll be right behind you after I talk to Sgt. Shen.”
    “Sure.” Battaglia waved O’Sullivan out of the car and they walked to where Travis guarded Rousse. Each officer took an arm and pulled Rousse to his feet. At their patrol car, O’Sullivan searched Rousse again. Kopriva didn’t take offense, though he knew some officers did. Which was too bad, in his opinion. If he put someone in his car, it was only after he searched them himself. He expected the same from other officers.
    Once Rousse was safely stowed in the back of the patrol car, Battaglia waved to him and the pair headed south on Regal, slowing to talk momentarily with someone in another police car. Kopriva recognized it as the Sergeant’s car. After a moment, O’Sullivan accelerated away and continued south.
    Sergeant Miyamoto Shen pulled his car in behind Kopriva’s and waited. Kopriva walked over and leaned i n to the window.
    “What do you have, Stef?” the trim sergeant asked him.
    “I stopped the car,” Kopriva explained, “and the passenger