Page 32 of Justice for Samara

Inside, plain as day, there was a guy holding a gun, pointing it at the pharmacist and the pharmacy tech. Michael looked around the parking lot. Yeah. That was probably the car right there. It had LyonCounty plates on it. Most likely trying to steal stuff to make meth. He hustled back to the car. “This is gonna take me a few minutes.”

She gave him a weird look. “Long line at this time of night?”

He reached into the pickup’s back seat and took out a Heckler & Koch .45 caliber, slammed a magazine in, and racked a round into the chamber. “No. Dumb sumbitch robbing the place.”

“Jesus! I don’t have a weapon on me!”

“That’s okay. I’ll only be a second.” He walked back toward the door and stood there, watching the guy still doing the same thing. If he was actually doing meth, that could be bad, but he was probably trying to get drugs to make it. Or he could be stealing oxy. They had as much trouble with it there as they did everywhere else.

Michael opened the door as quietly as possible and stepped into the store, careful to avoid the big convex mirrors at the ends of the aisles. He crept slowly up an aisle until he was within ten feet of the robber and lifted his weapon. “Law enforcement. Drop the gun. Now. DO IT NOW,” he growled. When the man hesitated, Michael added, “Do not make me shoot you, because I will. Put it down. Slowly.”

The man stooped until he could drop the gun to the floor, then rose. “On your knees, hands out to the sides.” As soon as he dropped, Michael kicked the gun away and barked at him, “Clasp your hands behind your head.” In seconds, he had the man’s wrists bound with a zip tie he always carried. He pulled his phone out and hit the emergency button.

“This is nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Karen, this is MichaelEdwards. Send a unit to Pharless Pharmacy. I’ve got a ten seventy-two. Armed robbery.”

“Got it. I’ll send them. I thought you weren’t on duty tonight.”

“I’m not. Stopped at the pharmacy and this asshole was waving a gun around. Oh, and run this plate. L-V-R…” He read the numbers off slowly. “LyonCounty plate.”

“Let’s see here. Ask him if he’s WayneGolightly.”

“You WayneGolightly?”

“Who wants to know?” the scumbucket asked.

“Yep. I’d say he is,” Michael told Karen.

“Got two outstanding warrants out for him. Lewis should be there in just a minute.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Sure enough, the sound of a siren was getting closer, and in a few seconds, Gray walked through the door. “What the hell? You’re not even supposed to be on duty.”

“Yeah. Can’t stop at the pharmacy for a simple box of… Band-Aids.” He’d almost said condoms. That wouldn’t do.

“Okay, idiot boy, let’s go. Know who this one is?”

“Yeah. Name is WayneGolightly. Got a couple of outstanding warrants. Just take him to the jail and I’ll write up the reports in the morning.”

“Outstanding warrants? Oh, this is gonna be fun for sure. Thanks, Michael. Have you Mirandized him?”

“Nope.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow.”

“Yep. See you then. Thanks for coming out.”

“My pleasure.”

Gray disappeared out the door with the robber and Michael sighed. All he’d wanted was a box of condoms. That was all. And he wound up doing something like that. It took him a minute or two to figure out where they were, and on his way to the register, he spotted a vase of roses, individual long-stemmed ones. He picked out the prettiest of them and headed for the counter.

When he slid back into the car, he sighed. “Holy shit. Can’t even go to the fucking drugstore.”

“I saw Gray. Did he say anything about me?”

“No. Think he saw you?”

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