I was sitting already. She sat next to me, sighing heavily, “I tried to pull the cop card, but this gal had been around the block. She didn’t even flinch. It’s probably going to be a while.”
I shrugged, “It goes with the territory.”
“You can take off if you like,” she said. “You haven’t seen the reports we have to fill out, yet. The Captain is gonna want this on his desk before we leave. No reason for both of us to stay late. Take off. I’ll call you when I’m out.”
“That’s ok,” I told her. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled, shrugging a little, “Suit yourself. That was some good work you did back there. You saved my ass on your first day. I was impressed.”
“Thanks,” I told her. “That guy was fighting out of his weight class. He didn’t have the balls to shoot and even if he did, he was so scared he would probably have missed, even at that range.”
She chuckled, “I don’t know about that. It scared the shit out of me all the same. Thanks for what you did.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
She nodded, “I would, you bet, but I’d have probably plugged the guy. I’m not good at talking things through.”
“I noticed,” I replied. “Tell me something, Hicks. Before that third perp grabbed you, you said something about a car backfiring when I said I had fired off a warning shot.”
“That’s right. In Davidson County it’s illegal for a police officer to fire a warning shot in pursuit of suspects,” she said. “You can get written up for that.”
“Oh, shit!” I huffed. “I didn’t realize that.”
“It's your first day. So, here’s what we’re gonna do,” she continued. “As soon as we get out of here, we’re going to replace the empty bullet casing in your service weapon. Then we’re going to stop by Office Depot and pick up a can of compressed air, and spray in the inside of your weapon. It wouldn’t pass a ballistics check but it will pass the sniff test if the Captain asks to see your weapon. The perps may bust us by saying you fired a shot, but we’re both gonna say a car backfired. I’ll back you up. Got it?”
“Thanks, Hicks,” I said. I really was grateful. Though it was probably not a major violation, I’d hate to get written up on my first day.
“And I need a favor from you, too,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“That beatdown I put on blondie at the end . . .” she began.
“You mean when you disarmed the perp and he resisted arrest?” I replied. "I commanded the perp to drop his weapon. He didn't. Your life was still in danger. You did what you needed to do to disarm him. That's what I saw."
She looked at me and smiled. She really was cute. A little eyeshadow and some hair management would improve things, but her ass was tight and her tits were magnificent. That little smile she flashed me went into my eyes and straight to my loins. I felt the little general beginning to twinge.
A call from dispatch came through. I answered the call. It seemed two homeless people from hobo’s palace were having trouble resolving a dispute. A passer by called it in, saying two men were yelling and screaming at each other. I looked at Hicks.
“You remember where it’s at?” she asked.
I nodded.
“It won’t take long,” she said. “I’ve handled a few calls like that. Go deal with it. No need to make an arrest, unless one of them is really over the top. Hell, they love getting arrested. For them it's a hot meal and a warm bed for the night. I should be ready for discharge by the time you get back.”
I nodded and left.
As I pulled out of the parking lot I kept thinking about Hicks. She was quite the woman. She didn’t look a bit scared when that perp grabbed her. When she reached for the mace I knew full well she would have used it. And she’d been flashing me signals ever since we got back in the car—at least I think she was.
Still, it would not have occurred to me to try to cover up a minor violation like firing a warning shot, but maybe the violation wasn’t so minor here. She seemed genuinely interested in having my six. As far as her own behavior went, the perp really was still armed and presented a real threat, though I have to admit, Hicks was rougher than she really needed to be. Still, it was a judgment call, the perp was not seriously injured and I needed to establish support for my partner.
I pulled into hobo’s palace without the blue and red flashing. I saw several people gathered around the steel drum fireplace. I stepped out of the vehicle and walked toward the group. I could tell people were used to seeing the police often, because no one seemed overly alarmed or intimidated—more interested.
“What can we do for you, officer?” a toothless woman in her fifties asked.
“I heard we had a bit of a disagreement here, Ms. . . .”
“Sally,” she said. “Oh, it weren’t nuthin.’ Happens all the time. One old boy over there took that young girl’s coat. The other was jus’ tryin’ to stick up for her, is all.”
“Did she get her coat back?” I asked.
“No, she didn’t.”
“Where’s the man who took it?”
“He done run off that-a-way,” Sally said, pointing due south. “He don’t come around here very often, officer. He’s got a fifteen-minute head start on you. We’ll be all right.”
“Had you ever seen him before?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Anyone here know his name?”
She shook her head.
“What about the girl who had her coat stolen?” I asked. “Will she be all right?”
“You can try asking her,” Sally replied, nodding to my left. “She’s new. She don’t talk but she’s sweet.”
I looked to where I saw Sally nodding. There was a young woman, sitting alone, with her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her hair was tucked up under her black wool hat, which had been pulled down over her forehead down to her eyebrows and over her ears. Her hands were covered in thick gray wool gloves. A worn, thin brown blanket covered her lap and knees. I noticed she was wearing a pair of dirty, worn orange and green sneakers. The shoes stood out in marked contrast against what was otherwise a nearly colorless ensemble.
She saw me approach and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“Hello Miss,” I began. “I understand someone took your coat.”
She looked down and offered a small shrug. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, but she looked young, perhaps thirty-five or so. Sally walked up behind me, “Like I said, she don’t talk.”
"Is she incapable of talking or does she choose not to?"
Sally shrugged. I turned back to the young woman.
“Miss,” I continued, “what’s your name?”
She shrugged again. I looked at Sally, “Does anyone know her name?”
“She ain’t told it to me,” Sally said. “I ain’t seen her talkin’ to no one else either.”
“Miss, do you want to file a report?” I asked.
For the first time, the young woman looked up at me and blinked before looking downward again, and then shook her head, no. Her eyes looked straight into mine for only a split second. Her cheeks were covered in soot but even so, I could tell, she was a beautiful girl. What the hell was such a young, beautiful girl doing in such a godforsaken place? I wondered. Drugs, I thought—it must be.
“Hey, Falco?” the dispatcher called.
I paused, reaching up to my mic, “Falco here. Go ahead, dispatch.”
“Hicks is ready to go. Are you on the scene at hobo’s palace?”
“Roger that,” I answered. “It was a mild disturbance. The vic does not want to file a report.”
“Then pick up your partner and come into the station,” she said. “The Captain wants to speak with you.”
“Roger that,” I said.
______________________
CHAPTER SIX
______________________
HICKS
I stood outside waiting for Falco to pull up in the cruiser. I didn’t have to wait long. I hopped into the passenger seat when he pulled up.
“You gonna live?” he jibed, smiling.
“Yeah, unfortunately for you,” I shot back.
“Captain wants to see us,” he said.
“I heard,” I told him. “Shawna gave me the heads up. The perps told Brady that you fired your gun at them and then they screamed police brutality.”
“Who’s Brady?” Falco asked.
“One of the backup officers,” I replied. “He’s a real prick.”
He was too, and he hated me. Andy Brady was my former partner. I rode with him for about three months before I started fucking him—big mistake. We were a thing for less than a month before shit started getting complicated. I broke it off. In addition to being a weak-assed cop, he was a horrible lay. Neither one of those things worked for me. However, he carried a torch for me and it pissed him off when I told him to hit the road. He’s been gunning for me ever since.
“We haven’t even filed a report yet,” Falco noted.
“Yeah, I know, but you know how sensitive things are with the police these days. Someone shouts police brutality and everyone’s ears perk.”
"Maybe I should just own up to the warning shot," he said. "It's my first day. Maybe they'll give me a pass."
I shook my head, "Not Captain Paulson. You saved my ass, Falco. I'm not about to let you get smacked down for some technicality."
“What do we do?” he asked.
“We keep to the plan,” I said. “Have you replaced the bullet in your service firearm yet?”
Falco nodded.
“Good. We'll stop at Office Depot and pick up a can of compressed air, as planned. We’ll pay cash. We'll spray out your firearm thoroughly, inside and out. We stick to what we said. We heard a car backfiring and . . .”
“And I saw the perp resisting arrest,” he continued. “I know the drill.”
I smiled. I liked this guy already, more than I should.
Forty-five minutes later, we were both sitting in Captain Paulson’s office with the door closed.
“I’ll make this quick,” I said. “You two made a nice collar. Not bad for your first day.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Falco replied.
“Hicks,” he said. “The commander tells me he ordered you to wait for backup, but you proceeded anyway.”
“That’s right, Captain,” I replied. “I observed one of the suspects through the window, holding a woman and brandishing a gun. I felt like the situation called for immediate action.”
“I see. A couple of other things have popped up. First, both perps in custody claimed you fired your service weapon at them, Falco.”
“That’s not true, Captain Paulson,” I interjected. “A car backfired. It was a coincidence. It was a big car, maybe a truck.”
“I asked Falco,” the captain barked, shutting me down. “According to the perps, and to the manager of the restaurant, Hicks was inside when the shot went off.”
“I was heading out the door,” I replied, ignoring his remark, “I came out of the building just a second after the car backfired. If Falco had fired a warning shot he would not have had time to re-holster his weapon. He did not fire the shot, Captain.”
“Let me see your weapon, Falco,” the captain said.
Falco unholstered his service firearm, checked to make sure the safety was on, and handed the weapon to the captain. Paulson ejected the round in the chamber and pulled the clip, sniffing the barrel and clip chamber. Seeming to be satisfied he sat the gun on his desk.
“Car backfire, huh?” he remarked. “Quite the coincidence.”
“A wild coincidence,” Falco agreed.
“Pretty convenient,” he smirked. “I will have to hold onto the weapon for now. Let’s move on, shall we? Hicks, you fucked that perp up pretty good.”
“You mean the one who grabbed me from behind, threatened to kill me and held me captive with a gun to my face?” I replied. “That perp?”
“The man told Brady he had given himself up,” the captain said.
“Captain, if I may,” Falco began. “I was standing right there. I commanded the suspect to surrender and to drop his weapon, but he didn’t relinquish his weapon right away. The perp had already threatened to shoot Officer Hicks several times and appeared highly volatile. In my opinion, Hicks used force to disarm the perp, yes, but the situation was dangerous. In a similar situation, I would have done the same. In fact, her actions very likely saved the man’s life. If she was not able to disarm the suspect, I was very prepared to shoot him. Hicks used appropriate force.”
“Appropriate force?” Paulson said. “That included a kick to the ribs?”
“The perp was resisting even on the ground,” I said. “My life was in danger.”
Captain Paulson looked at them both, “That’s your story, then?”
“It’s what happened, Captain,” I said.
“This is your first day together?” Paulson said. “Just make sure your stories are straight in your reports, which I will expect on my desk before you leave tonight. This might draw some heat. I want all the I’s dotted and T’s crossed—got it?”
“We've got it, Captain,” I said.
Falco nodded.
“Ok, you two get the fuck outta here.”
Falco and I stood to leave.
“Hey, you two,” Paulson called out as we opened the door to leave.
“Yes, Captain,” I replied.
“Good collar, both of you,” he said.
______________________
CHAPTER SEVEN
______________________
FALCO
I sat at my desk, breathing a little heavily. I hated lying to the captain. I especially hated lying to the captain on my first day, and I really, really hated lying to him to protect a partner who was very likely to use excessive force again. I saw the look in Hicks’s eyes. She wanted to beat the guy to death. I didn't blame her. She had a gun to her temple. I’d never been in that position before but I’m pretty sure that I would take strong exception to someone who took me hostage and held a gun to my head.
Hicks was my partner and I needed to support her, and damn if she didn’t have my back on the whole ‘warning shot’ thing. If she hadn’t helped me out, I would have very likely had to surrender my weapon and faced suspension while an investigation took place. I could only imagine how brief my career in Metro would have been had that occurred.
“Good job back there, Falco,” Hicks whispered to me, sitting down at her desk next to mine. “That took balls, pal, and you’ve got a set. I have to say, it made me a little wet.”
She turned and open an incident report document on her computer leaving me to guess about the implications of the whole ‘wet’ comment. In Franklin, nearly all the female cops swore like drunken sailors and talked shit to the other officers, men and women alike. It made me wonder if that’s what this was, or whether the comment had an underlying meaning.
It was well past seven o’clock when we’d finished our reports, comparing our notes along the way. We clicked the send button, which sent the reports to the captain and to the office of the division commander, who was certain to take a long look at it. I think Hicks could tell the whole thing was making me nervous.
“Relax, Falco. C’mon, let’s grab some dinner,” she said to me.
“I should probably just get home,” I said.
She blew a raspberry, “Home? Fuck that. We’re gonna grab some food and a drink at Yakety Sax.”
“What’s Yakety Sax?” I asked.
“Cop bar,” she replied. “I owe you a drink in a big way after today and I always pay my debts. You saved my bacon. You did good today.”
We went into the lockers to grab our bags and change. I finished first and waited for her outside the women’s lockers. She appeared in a tight white top that was sheer enough for me to see a perfect outline of her pushup bra.
She wore jeans and some fashionable leather flats. Her hair looked much better. It was combed out into loose waves hanging about shoulder length.
“Woah,” I said. “You scrub up pretty nice.”
“That sounds like language inappropriate for the workplace,” she replied, her face looking serious.
I paused, wondering what I’d say to backpedal from that and noticed her face transforming into a broad smile.
“Relax, Falco,” she chuckled, “I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Chill out, man. You’re gonna have to get that stick out of your ass if you’re going to fit in here.”
I shook my head, ‘Ok, you busted me. I was worried for a minute. Give me the address and I’ll follow you.”
Twenty minutes later, we both pulled into the Yakety Sax, named after a song by an old-time recording artist, Boots Randolph. The bar was on the bottom floor of a large, brick building. The other floors held condominiums.
When we walked in, perhaps a third of the people in the bar cheered Hicks. Word of our collar had gotten around. I had a few people congratulating me as well, but it was obvious that Hicks was the star of the show. It was fine by me.
We joined a group at a large table. Besides myself and Hicks, there were seven other officers at the table. The only one I'd met and had talked to previously besides Hicks was Officer Shawna White, the black officer I’d met earlier that morning. I sat to her right. Hicks took a seat to my right.
“You like turkey melt, Falco?” she asked me.
“I don’t know what that is,” I replied.
“Slices of turkey and bacon on a wheat roll with melted swiss cheese, lettuce, mayo and onions,” Shawna said. “You’ll love it.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll have one and a beer too.”
“You’ll have a shot of Jim Beam in that beer, too, right?” Shawna asked, her speech slightly slurred. It was obvious to me that Shawna had been there a while and drinking the whole time. Shawna was dressed in a skin-tight top and pants. Her pants looked like they were just waiting to split open. Her face was pretty. Her lips were full and painted red, drawing attention to the small gap between her two front teeth.
Happily Ever Alpha_Until Falco Page 4
