hit, and the Playboyz are on the defensive, waiting for the retaliation drive-bys. We’ve confiscated a few weapons though, so . . .” His voice trailed off as his gaze went to the trunk.
Stepping forward, she pushed the lid all the way up. “What in the world?” she said as Nick reached in and pulled a tarp away.
There, illuminated by the bright headlights and the flashing emergency lights of her patrol car, she saw at least two shotguns and several handguns, plus boxes and boxes of all types of ammunition. Plenty of stuff to start a full-scale war and keep it going for some time.
Finally Potter said something. “Did they rip off a gun store?”
7
CARLY AND JOE RETURNED to the station after the hospital trip—and the piles of IOD paperwork—with only an hour left to their shift. The doctor had wrapped Joe’s leg in a splint, then told him to keep it elevated and iced and to visit occupational health as soon as possible, but he was off work for at least a month. Carly offered to drive him home, but since it was his left leg, he told her he’d be fine to drive himself.
Because of the guns they found in the trunk, there was more interest in Omar, Trey’s passenger. While at the hospital, Carly had a predictable conversation with the gangster. He was still coherent in spite of painkillers and was adamant that he knew nothing about the car being stolen.
“He just picked me up, I swear! I work at Burger King on the boulevard until midnight. You can call my boss.”
“We will; we will. Did you and Trey pick anything up after you got in the car?”
“I just barely got in the car.”
Carly folded her arms. “Yes or no.”
“No, no, no.”
“I’ll send a unit out to talk to your boss right now.”
“Good. He’ll tell you. Man, I didn’t steal no car.”
“How about guns?”
“Huh?” Omar truly looked confused, but Carly wondered if the painkillers were kicking in. Doctors told her they were going to have to put a pin in his leg.
She conferred with Barrett about him. After verifying his work story, they continued with the RNB. If they needed Omar, he wasn’t going anywhere for the time being.
When Carly said good night to Joe, she was angry. Trey Porter had cost her a good partner. The triple shooting and this moronic gang war had put her husband in jeopardy. She bought some bad coffee from the vending machine and tried to swallow the sour lump of resentment in her throat with a gulp. They hadn’t had a chance to take a lunch break, but even though her stomach growled, she didn’t feel like eating.
Taking the coffee, she settled into the file room to review their log before heading to the locker room to change. Patrol logs were kept electronically, but officers printed out a copy at EOW to review and write notes if needed. The logs were then initialed and turned in to records. She also planned to call authorities in Arizona about Dean Barton.
A familiar voice sounded from her left. “Officer Edwards.”
Carly looked up. “Hey, G-man, Agent Wiley. How are you?” She started to stand to shake his hand.
He waved her down and pulled up a chair, straddling it so he could rest his elbows on the back while he faced her. Wiley looked crisp and formal in a dark suit, the stereotypical picture of an FBI agent, a man who had helped with the kidnapping investigation and rescue of Joe’s son.
“Good observation of that stolen car tonight. I paid a visit to Nick and his partner.”
“Trying to stay busy?”
“I hear Joe got hurt.”
Carly nodded and told him what had happened.
“That’s tough, but maybe it’s only a sprain and not as serious as they think right now.”
“Hope you’re right. What brings you here this time of the morning? Are you checking up on Oceans First?”
He shook his head. “From what I’ve seen, LPPD has been handling the protestors just fine. I actually came to talk to you. I knew I’d find you working these godforsaken hours.”
Carly smiled and spread
Stepping forward, she pushed the lid all the way up. “What in the world?” she said as Nick reached in and pulled a tarp away.
There, illuminated by the bright headlights and the flashing emergency lights of her patrol car, she saw at least two shotguns and several handguns, plus boxes and boxes of all types of ammunition. Plenty of stuff to start a full-scale war and keep it going for some time.
Finally Potter said something. “Did they rip off a gun store?”
7
CARLY AND JOE RETURNED to the station after the hospital trip—and the piles of IOD paperwork—with only an hour left to their shift. The doctor had wrapped Joe’s leg in a splint, then told him to keep it elevated and iced and to visit occupational health as soon as possible, but he was off work for at least a month. Carly offered to drive him home, but since it was his left leg, he told her he’d be fine to drive himself.
Because of the guns they found in the trunk, there was more interest in Omar, Trey’s passenger. While at the hospital, Carly had a predictable conversation with the gangster. He was still coherent in spite of painkillers and was adamant that he knew nothing about the car being stolen.
“He just picked me up, I swear! I work at Burger King on the boulevard until midnight. You can call my boss.”
“We will; we will. Did you and Trey pick anything up after you got in the car?”
“I just barely got in the car.”
Carly folded her arms. “Yes or no.”
“No, no, no.”
“I’ll send a unit out to talk to your boss right now.”
“Good. He’ll tell you. Man, I didn’t steal no car.”
“How about guns?”
“Huh?” Omar truly looked confused, but Carly wondered if the painkillers were kicking in. Doctors told her they were going to have to put a pin in his leg.
She conferred with Barrett about him. After verifying his work story, they continued with the RNB. If they needed Omar, he wasn’t going anywhere for the time being.
When Carly said good night to Joe, she was angry. Trey Porter had cost her a good partner. The triple shooting and this moronic gang war had put her husband in jeopardy. She bought some bad coffee from the vending machine and tried to swallow the sour lump of resentment in her throat with a gulp. They hadn’t had a chance to take a lunch break, but even though her stomach growled, she didn’t feel like eating.
Taking the coffee, she settled into the file room to review their log before heading to the locker room to change. Patrol logs were kept electronically, but officers printed out a copy at EOW to review and write notes if needed. The logs were then initialed and turned in to records. She also planned to call authorities in Arizona about Dean Barton.
A familiar voice sounded from her left. “Officer Edwards.”
Carly looked up. “Hey, G-man, Agent Wiley. How are you?” She started to stand to shake his hand.
He waved her down and pulled up a chair, straddling it so he could rest his elbows on the back while he faced her. Wiley looked crisp and formal in a dark suit, the stereotypical picture of an FBI agent, a man who had helped with the kidnapping investigation and rescue of Joe’s son.
“Good observation of that stolen car tonight. I paid a visit to Nick and his partner.”
“Trying to stay busy?”
“I hear Joe got hurt.”
Carly nodded and told him what had happened.
“That’s tough, but maybe it’s only a sprain and not as serious as they think right now.”
“Hope you’re right. What brings you here this time of the morning? Are you checking up on Oceans First?”
He shook his head. “From what I’ve seen, LPPD has been handling the protestors just fine. I actually came to talk to you. I knew I’d find you working these godforsaken hours.”
Carly smiled and spread
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