Page 80 of Shadows Reel

Viktór heard a muffledsnickfrom his right as László thumbed the safety of the shotgun off.

“Do you want me to apologize to your brother as well?” Deputy Schuster asked, leaning in to peer over Viktór’s shoulder. Viktór was astonished. Was this cop going to force his way in? Or get his head blown off trying?

“Please, I need to go,” Viktór said.

The cop grinned and cocked his head. “Your accent—I can’t place it. You say you’re from New York, but I’m getting like an Eastern European vibe. I had a teacher once from Hungary and he talked kind of like you. Weird, huh?”

Suddenly the door was wrenched open, causing Viktór to backpedal across the room. It was László, and László was enraged.

He grabbed the deputy by his collar and pulled him into the room. The deputy went down hard on the floor and László was on top of him. László clubbed the man’s head with the butt of his shotgun, then he plucked the officer’s weapon out of its holster and tossed it on the bed. In the same movement, László kicked the door shut. He flipped the deputy over and jammed the muzzle of the shotgun into the flesh beneath his nose.

Viktór was reminded there was nothing like his brother when it came to displays of sudden violence. It was one of the reasons he’d been such a good wrestler. Lászlólikedhurting people.

“What is wrong with you?” László bellowed at the cop.

Deputy Schuster looked up at László. He was terrified. His eyes shifted over to Viktór, as if pleading his case.

Viktór placed his hands on top of his head and paced the room. “What have you done?” he asked out loud. “What have we done?”

“I’ve got his keys,” László said. “I’m going to go move his car.”

“He’s a cop,” Viktór said.

“He’s a stupid cop.”

Viktór couldn’t argue with that. He watched as László removed handcuffs from the deputy’s belt and had the cop sit up. His brother ratcheted the cuffs tight on the man’s wrists behind his back. László also removed a canister of pepper spray and a handheld radio from his belt and tossed them on the bed out of reach.

“Here,” László said, handing the shotgun to Viktór. “Hold this on him and don’t let him move or talk.”

“Where are you going to hide his car so that no one can find it?” Viktór asked.

“There’s a ditch behind the motel. I’ll get it out of sight for now.”

“What are we going to do with him?”

László shrugged. Before he left the room with the keys, he gave Deputy Schuster a hard kick in his ribs. The officer moaned and tipped over to his side, writhing on the floor. Viktór kept the shotgun on him.

“Whatiswrong with you?” Viktór asked.

—

After Deputy Schustergot his breath back, he answered the question. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Look where it got you,” Viktór said.

“Yeah. My mom always tells me I need to work on my interpersonal communication skills.”

Viktór had no response to that. The cop’s hat had been knocked off his head in the scuffle and it sat upside down next to the foot of the bed. With his hat off, he looked even younger than Viktór had originally thought.

“Is he really your brother?” Schuster asked.

“Yes.”

Schuster nodded. Then: “Are you the two we’re supposed to be looking for?”

“No.” It was an easy lie.

“I’ll tell you what,” Schuster said. “How about you let me go before your brother gets back? I’ll pretend this never happened and you two can go on your way. It’s a big deal for a cop to get jumped and have his weapons taken away from him. You’ll be in big, big trouble for assaulting a police officer.”

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