Hot Stuff by Don Bruns Page A

at my place?” We’d stepped out of the car, standing by the white truck.
    I liked the sound of that. “James?”
    â€œSure, pard.”
    I handed him the key.
    He got into the truck and Em held out her fob.
    â€œWant to drive?”
    It appeared I was going to be lucky twice this evening.
    â€œEmily?”
    The male voice came from the dark place behind her Jag. I grabbed Em’s hand and pulled her toward me.
    â€œEmily Minard?”
    â€œWhat do you want?” My voice was shaky. There was an empty feeling in my stomach and I realized I hadn’t eaten. With two margaritas down there and no food since breakfast—
    A shadowy figure rounded the car, a flashlight beam moving slowly over the two of us. As the body moved past our truck, I was startled by the loud squeak of the Chevy’s door. It opened with a hard thrust as James leaned into it, hitting the man with the full force of the rusty metal.
    The flashlight went flying as the dark form fell backward, cracking his head on the blacktop parking lot. Everything was quiet for a moment, then James stepped from the truck.
    â€œSkip, Em, you guys okay?”
    In the dim evening light I saw Em nodding emphatically.
    â€œDude,” James’s voice was shaking, “I almost didn’t get it open. I told you to use some WD-40 on these doors.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    The flashlight battery was strong and the light was still on as I picked it off the pavement and focused the beam on the man’s face. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.
    â€œI’ll call nine-one-one,” Em said as she searched in her purse for the iPhone.
    Kneeling, James studied the form for a moment. Sport coat, green polo shirt, jeans, and a pair of white Nikes. James pulled the coat aside.
    â€œOh, shit.” He shuddered and looked up at me. “We may have stepped into it this time, Tonto.”
    I saw what he was talking about in the ray of light. A shoulder holster with a gun tucked into the tan leather.
    â€œNine-one-one?” Em was staring at his weapon as well. “We’ve just been attacked by a man with a gun in the parking lot of—”
    â€œEm. Hang up. Now!” James was rising, grabbing for her black phone.
    â€œNever mind.” Em pushed a button and as I swung the light to her, she threw her hands up in disgust. “What the hell was thatall about? We’ve got an unconscious man with a gun who tried to attack us and you try to shut my—”
    â€œEm, Skip.” James opened his palm. “Look.”
    I focused the beam on his hand. He was cradling a gold badge with an embossed star in the center. The word “Detective” was at the top and “Sheriff’s Office Miami Dade County Florida” surrounded the star.
    â€œUh-oh.” I switched the light back to our uninvited guest and could hear his ragged breathing. “Guys, we’ve obviously got a serious problem. We’ve got to do something.”
    â€œWe just assaulted an officer of the law,” James said. “I’ve had dreams about that, but this time—”
    Em played the cell phone back and forth, hand to hand.
    â€œSkip, James, assaulting a police officer is one thing. Letting him die is something else.”
    â€œIf we call the cops,” I found myself breathing fast, taking shallow gulps of air, “we could seriously be arrested.”
    â€œThink, boys, think.” Em was always the voice of reason. “James was getting out of the truck to see who was shouting out my name.” She pointed to James. “That’s all you were doing, right?”
    â€œTrue,” James said, the three of us knowing full well that he’d deliberately hit the man with the truck’s door.
    â€œWe didn’t mug him. We didn’t threaten him or hit him with our fists. James stepped out of the truck and this guy, this detective, happened to be in the way.” Em was trembling