Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“That’s crazy,” I said, reaching them, seeing the gun now that he was holding in his right hand, under his jacket, gripping her shoulder with his left. “Is this your brother you told me all about?” I asked, holding out my hand to him.
Her eyes filled then at the same time I saw Lang behind him.
“You’re not the brother, are you?” I grabbed Marta’s arm, yanking her forward, into me.
He whipped the gun out, but it was too late. As Marta and I stepped sideways, he went down hard onto the grass under my partner.
Becker was there suddenly, his foot on the guy’s wrist, and then Lang pulled the man’s hands behind his back and put zip ties on him that a police officer passed him.
Once the guy was up, another officer, wearing gloves, collected the gun, pulled out the magazine, and then performed the press check to make sure the gun had no bullets in the chamber before dropping it into an evidence bag. CPD took charge of both.
Marta started hyperventilating, but before I could do anything, Carmen was there, wrapping her arms around her friend, the two of them hugging tight.
“So let me understand this,” Becker began, looking from Lang to me. “Earlier this evening, you two caught Tobias Mosbach, and now have uncovered a gang in a residence here because a young woman bumped into you on the street? Is that right?”
“Yes, sir,” Lang answered for both of us because that was his way.
“Well, I understand that Monday you’re off to Vegas, so since we’re not taking any of these men into custody, as we did Mosbach, you can write your reports at home and send them to me no later than tomorrow by five, meaning Sunday, since it’s already Saturday now. Are we clear, gentlemen?”
“We are,” Lang said. “We both have our laptops at home now since we passed our probationary period, so we’ll get that done.”
“Two reports, not one that’s combined or one with an addendum. Two.” He drilled into the ground in case we’d both become stupid in the last five minutes.
“Yes, sir,” Lang concurred. “We completed the one for Mosbach a few hours ago, and this will be no different.”
He nodded and looked at me. “Anything to add, McCabe?”
“No, sir.”
“All right. You two are dismissed.”
Before we left, we went to see Carmen. Lang gave her his card and told her that she could get both of us that way.
After hugging us both, she returned to her family.
It was always interesting to me that people—kids, teenagers, all ages, male and female, didn’t matter—all of them had different reactions to being saved by law enforcement. Some wanted us to stay. They hung on us, felt safer with us there, while others, like Carmen, appreciated us, yes, but from how abrupt she was, I suspected the quicker we were gone, the faster that feeling of calmness, of grounding, of back to normal, could kick in. Carmen had a life, she ran track at school for goodness’ sake, and tonight her usual Friday night—Saturday morning now—had been interrupted. Now, though, the bad guys were gone, not only temporarily, but forever, as her building would be watched by the CPD going forward, and so she was ready to be with her family and friends, but Lang and I could go.
“I like that,” he said as we walked toward the street.
“What?”
“When they want us to go,” he said, taking hold of my bicep and crossing four lanes of traffic with me, jaywalking, but it was after two in the morning at this point, so no one cared. “It’s healthy. I love that Carmen is so confident in herself that we’re unneeded after the emergency. She can do the rest herself.”
“She should probably still talk to someone.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. My understanding is that if something is a one-off, you can sometimes get over it on your own.”
“I think that there depends on quite a few factors.”
“That’s probably true as well. Whatever she does, I hope she comes through this all right. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her.”
I was quiet.
“But you can, can’t you?”
I turned to him. “Whaddya mean?”
“Your father, he used to wake you up out of a sound sleep and beat on you before he remarried, when you were small.”
It was true. He had. Over the years I realized the worst part was going from the safety of sleep, and my dreams, to the brutality of another attack and never knowing why.
“If I haven’t told you lately, I think it’s amazing that you’re talking to someone other than me about all that. And I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I rasped, choked up suddenly, the emotion swelling in my chest. “I appreciated you givin’ me a push in that direction.”