HardScape by Justin Scott

Author:Justin Scott [Scott, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General
ISBN: 9781615951901
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2010-08-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I slammed the closet door, kicked the visitor’s chair in front of it, dove for the guy at the desk, and tried to pin his wrist. He was short, broad, and very fast. He chopped my jaw with his free hand. I slipped most of it over my shoulder and kneed him while I battled his other hand. He hit me again. I saw stars, kneed him again, and this time connected. He doubled over. I tore his hand out of the windbreaker. He held a badge on a leather case. “State police,” he gasped, straightening up and straight-arming my chest. “Back off. Now!”

“What?”

Major Case Squad Sergeant Bender pushed out of the closet, waving a search warrant.

“What’s going on?” I was utterly baffled, aware only that the other cop was circling behind me, looking to throw a kidney punch.

My telephone rang. Bender picked it up. “Thanks. He’s already here.”

Marian Boyce crashed through the door. “You horse’s ass,” she said to Bender. “What took you so long?”

“Jailbirds know how to hide stuff.”

I looked from Bender to Marian. To her credit, she couldn’t meet my eye. “What stuff? What the hell is this about?”

Bender handed me the warrant. I skimmed a blur of print. Blood and adrenaline were tearing around my head. I recognized my name and address. The warrant was signed by a county magistrate.

“What are you looking for?”

“Cash,” said Bender. “In a shopping bag.”

“What? What the—”

Alison hovered at the open door, her little jaw dropping. I took a deep breath and scanned the warrant a second time. It covered the house only, not the barn. She and her mother were safe. “Alison, may I introduce Sergeant Bender and—” I looked at the cop I had kneed. He was still holding his badge, but he didn’t tell me his name. “This is Alison Mealy, my neighbor. Say hello to the nice police officer, Alison.”

She looked as bewildered as I, but she stepped into the room and gave me a reassuring little grin. “Hello,” she said to Bender.

“Don’t offer your hand.”

“I wasn’t going to. Are you okay, Ben?”

“I’m okay. Go home, hon. Go on, everything’s fine.”

“Frisk him,” Bender ordered.

I backed up a step. “Let the child go first. Marian, would you please walk Alison home? Go on home, hon. It’s okay.”

Alison didn’t move.

I said, “Thanks for coming and getting me, Alison. I appreciate it.”

“Come on, sweetie,” said Marian, reaching for her hand. Alison ran like the wind.

“Spread ’em,” said Bender.

Boy, did a patdown bring back a lot of memories. I felt myself losing it, calculating the optimum moment to throw the two of them through the windows. The patdown is a humiliating example of the guard’s power and the prisoner’s lack of it. Particularly if the guard is doing it just to show you he can, which is what Bender was doing, knowing full well I hadn’t gone armed to dinner with Marian; nor did he think I had palmed a lobster cracker from the table. To my surprise, instead of

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