Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers

by Emily Matthews

  “Stopped me? I thought you were just saying hi!”

  “Ma’am, have you been drinking?” At this point, it was a rhetorical question but one he had to ask.

  “Well, I…um, I mean, I had a couple of beers at the bar earlier. But I’m fine now.”

  “Please turn off the car and step out of the vehicle.”

  She fumbled with the keys but finally got the car turned off. Then she battled the door but eventually got it open. He helped her out and started to tell her that he smelled alcohol and that she seemed impaired so he was going to do some tests.

  “Like hell, Trooper,” she said suddenly and turned to run. “You’ll never catch me!”

  She was wearing four-inch heels and was drunk as hell. He could walk faster than she was “running.”

  He strode up to her and kept pace easily at a brisk walk. “Ma’am, please don’t try to run.”

  She looked over, and her eyes widened, surprised that he was keeping up. She turned around and started back toward the cars. In an attempt to run faster, she pulled off one shoe and then the other. While struggling with the second shoe she tripped and began to pitch forward. Jake reached out to keep her from falling but only caught a handful of shirt. She shimmied out of the top, caught her balance, and tried to run. Having had nothing on under the shirt, she was now topless, bare breasts glowing and bouncing in the headlights.

  Jake took two large steps forward and moved to grab her. Just as he did, they made it to where the pavement met the grass and he tripped, falling and taking her down with him.

  A county deputy pulled up and got out. He sauntered over to where Jake was lying on top of the struggling woman and laughed.

  “Is this how you get so many women, Jake? You know, the rest of us just ask ‘em out, and if they say no, we let ‘em go.”

  “You’re a barrel of laughs, Doug. Just get a fucking blanket and help me get her covered up.” It was late at night, but he didn’t need drivers passing by seeing a trooper manhandling a half-naked woman.

  A second deputy had pulled up, assessed the situation, and was already coming toward them with a yellow blanket. The kind all officers carried in their patrol cars. He opened it and threw it to Jake who wrapped her up quickly, using it to pin her arms to her sides.

  “Thanks, Aaron,” Jake said, shooting Doug a dirty look. “You can have her.”

  “Ah, not sure I want her, dude. She seems like trouble. Doug, you got here first. She’s all yours.”

  “Fine, but we gotta get her shirt back on her somehow. I’m not dealing with the transport and the Breathalyzer with her wrapped in a blanket.”

  Jake handed the squirmy bundle to Doug and walked over to retrieve the woman’s shirt. He went to put it over her head while she was still wrapped up in the blanket.

  “Oh my God, Jakie?” she screamed in his ear. “Is that you? I know you.”

  Jake panicked. “I don’t think so, lady.” She was about his age and obviously did the bar scene, but Jake would have remembered if she’d been one of the ladies he’d taken home.

  “Last year. I met a trooper. He took me home to show me his patrol car and we, um, well, you know. Don’t you remember me, Jakie?”

  “Stop calling me Jakie,” he sulked. Shit. That sounded exactly like something he would say and do. He had to get out of here.

  “Classy, Jake,” said Doug. “You know, one of these days you’re gonna meet a woman that’ll make you want to give up your womanizing ways and settle down. You really oughta cool it with the bimbos.”

  “Hey,” said the woman. “Are you talking about me?”

  “No,” said all three officers in unison.

  “I’m already on over time. My sarge is going to kill me. I gotta get home,” said Jake. “I’ll email you my notes on her driving prior to the stop and what happened before you got here. You got this?”

  “Yeah, go on. Later, man,” said Doug.

  Aaron nodded his farewell and headed back to his own rig.

  Jake got back into his car and tossed his campaign hat onto the passenger’s seat. He closed his eyes for a brief second trying to remember this woman. He thought maybe he had a vague recollection, but there were a lot of women to scan through. He gave up and started the car.

  “379, Seattle. I’m clear. County’s handling.” He put his mic back in its holder and got the hell out of there. He was already almost two hours late getting off and his sergeant hated it when he had to adjust for unexpected overtime.

  This was his last night shift for a while. He just had to make it home without stumbling upon any other nefarious folks. Then, after a three-day weekend, he’d be back on day shift for a month. It wasn’t as exciting as the night shift, but it did have one benefit—Hannah.

  Thanks for reading!

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  About the Author

  Emily loves dark chocolate, dogs, and sitting on the back porch with a good book. She lives in Washington State with her husband of 20+ years and their dog, Stella. Their wonderful, brilliant children are both away at college, leaving them time to travel and do good in the community.