car?’
I started to stand up but she said, ‘Listen! They changed cars! They followed us to the movies and when we got out they followed us home! And they’re out there right now!’
I grabbed my hands back, went to the window, and yanked the cord that pulled the blinds all the way up. A white car was parked across the street, in front of the McClures’ house with its ‘for sale’ sign, and the guys in it favored Luna’s description. With my girls flanking me, we stared out at the white car, which started up immediately and drove off, as I wrote down the license plate number.
‘Uh oh,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut up!’ Mr Smith said.
‘But now they know we’re watching ’em,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut up!’ Mr Smith repeated.
‘Mr Brown’s gonna be all kinds of mad,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Mr Smith screamed.
‘Jeez, ya don’t have to get pissy about it,’ Mr Jones said.
Mr Smith gritted his teeth for the umpteenth time and drove out of the neighborhood.
I called Luna at her office at the police station in Codderville.
‘Lieutenant Luna,’ she said upon answering. She used to just say ‘Luna,’ but with the promotion, she’s all about rank. I’m embarrassed for her.
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘The blue car is now white. They were parked in front of the McClures’ house.’ I read off the license plate number. ‘They followed the girls to the movies, waited for them, then followed them back! What are you going to do about this?’ I demanded.
‘Not my jurisdiction. Call the Black Cat Ridge police,’ she said, and hung up.
I said some words I shouldn’t say in front of my children, even though they’re old enough now to teach me some new ones, hung up, and redialed the Black Cat Ridge police – the 311 number, not the 911.
I explained the situation, told the lady on the other end of the phone that Luna had witnessed these men sitting in their car outside my house and then attempting to break in. And that the same men had followed my girls to and from the movies today and had been sitting outside the house in another car just now. I gave her the license plate number of the white car they were driving.
‘Did they actually break into your home?’ she asked.
‘Well, no—’
‘Did they park their vehicle in your driveway?’ she asked.
‘Ah, no, but—’
‘Did they speak to your daughters?’ she asked.
‘No, but listen—’
‘Ma’am, I don’t see that there’s anything we can do about this at the moment. If they break a law, we’ll be happy to—’
‘But they trespassed!’
‘Ma’am?’
‘They walked up my driveway!’ I said.
‘Is your driveway posted?’
‘Posted?’
‘Is there a “no trespassing” sign posted at the front of your driveway?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not—’
‘Then they did not trespass, ma’am. Please call us back if—’
‘If what?’ I shouted. ‘They attack one of my children? Break into my home? Kill us all in our sleep?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said. ‘Any of the above.’
And the line went dead in my hands.
Boy, was I pissed!
‘Go steal that license plate,’ Mr Smith said to Mr Jones. ‘Front and back.’
‘Huh?’ Mr Jones said.
‘Go get those fucking license plates, moron! Are you deaf as well as stupid?’ Mr Smith shouted.
Mr Jones squared his broad shoulders. He’d had just about enough of Mr Smith and his attitude. ‘That was really uncalled for, Mr Smith,’ he said. ‘And if you want those “fucking” license plates stolen, I suggest you do it yourself!’ Mr Jones crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the passenger-side window.
‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’ Mr Smith said between his gritted teeth. ‘Tell me I didn’t hurt your goddam feelings!’
Mr Jones said nothing, just continued to stare out his window, his body language speaking volumes.
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Mr Smith said and got out of the white rental.
They were in the
I started to stand up but she said, ‘Listen! They changed cars! They followed us to the movies and when we got out they followed us home! And they’re out there right now!’
I grabbed my hands back, went to the window, and yanked the cord that pulled the blinds all the way up. A white car was parked across the street, in front of the McClures’ house with its ‘for sale’ sign, and the guys in it favored Luna’s description. With my girls flanking me, we stared out at the white car, which started up immediately and drove off, as I wrote down the license plate number.
‘Uh oh,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut up!’ Mr Smith said.
‘But now they know we’re watching ’em,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut up!’ Mr Smith repeated.
‘Mr Brown’s gonna be all kinds of mad,’ Mr Jones said.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Mr Smith screamed.
‘Jeez, ya don’t have to get pissy about it,’ Mr Jones said.
Mr Smith gritted his teeth for the umpteenth time and drove out of the neighborhood.
I called Luna at her office at the police station in Codderville.
‘Lieutenant Luna,’ she said upon answering. She used to just say ‘Luna,’ but with the promotion, she’s all about rank. I’m embarrassed for her.
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘The blue car is now white. They were parked in front of the McClures’ house.’ I read off the license plate number. ‘They followed the girls to the movies, waited for them, then followed them back! What are you going to do about this?’ I demanded.
‘Not my jurisdiction. Call the Black Cat Ridge police,’ she said, and hung up.
I said some words I shouldn’t say in front of my children, even though they’re old enough now to teach me some new ones, hung up, and redialed the Black Cat Ridge police – the 311 number, not the 911.
I explained the situation, told the lady on the other end of the phone that Luna had witnessed these men sitting in their car outside my house and then attempting to break in. And that the same men had followed my girls to and from the movies today and had been sitting outside the house in another car just now. I gave her the license plate number of the white car they were driving.
‘Did they actually break into your home?’ she asked.
‘Well, no—’
‘Did they park their vehicle in your driveway?’ she asked.
‘Ah, no, but—’
‘Did they speak to your daughters?’ she asked.
‘No, but listen—’
‘Ma’am, I don’t see that there’s anything we can do about this at the moment. If they break a law, we’ll be happy to—’
‘But they trespassed!’
‘Ma’am?’
‘They walked up my driveway!’ I said.
‘Is your driveway posted?’
‘Posted?’
‘Is there a “no trespassing” sign posted at the front of your driveway?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not—’
‘Then they did not trespass, ma’am. Please call us back if—’
‘If what?’ I shouted. ‘They attack one of my children? Break into my home? Kill us all in our sleep?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said. ‘Any of the above.’
And the line went dead in my hands.
Boy, was I pissed!
‘Go steal that license plate,’ Mr Smith said to Mr Jones. ‘Front and back.’
‘Huh?’ Mr Jones said.
‘Go get those fucking license plates, moron! Are you deaf as well as stupid?’ Mr Smith shouted.
Mr Jones squared his broad shoulders. He’d had just about enough of Mr Smith and his attitude. ‘That was really uncalled for, Mr Smith,’ he said. ‘And if you want those “fucking” license plates stolen, I suggest you do it yourself!’ Mr Jones crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the passenger-side window.
‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’ Mr Smith said between his gritted teeth. ‘Tell me I didn’t hurt your goddam feelings!’
Mr Jones said nothing, just continued to stare out his window, his body language speaking volumes.
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Mr Smith said and got out of the white rental.
They were in the
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