Page 7 of Stilettos and Outlaws

“Or have us guarding prisoners on trash pickup detail,” Julie groaned.

“Ugh.” I got out of the car and almost stepped on a kitten. “Hey, little guy. were those mean ole’ coyotes chasing you?”

The kitten mewed pathetically.

I picked the shivering kitty up and cuddled it against my chest. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Girl or a boy?” Mom wanted to know.

I took a quick look. “A little girl.”

“Give her to me. I have some jerky in my purse.”

Mom always had food in her purse, along with an assortment of weapons.

Julie rolled the back window down and I handed Mom the kitten.

“Oh, you poor thing, you’re nothing but skin and bones. Don’t you worry. We’ll fix you right up.” Mom tore off a piece of jerky and gave it to the hungry kitten.

I couldn’t wait to see the expression on Dad’s face when Mom brought the kitten home. He wasn’t a cat person. Nope, he liked his K-9’s big and well-trained. After he lost Bruno in the line of duty, he had never gotten another dog. I grabbed the bottle of wiper fluid out of the trunk.

“We need to take Miss Kitty to the vet too,” Mom called.

I grinned. She had already named her. “Okay, Mom.” I filled the reservoir. “Try it now, Jullie.”

Julie turned the wiper blades on, but all they did was smear the bird crap around.

I poured the washer fluid directly on the windshield and the wipers finally cleared the mess. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

Julie gave me a thumbs-up.

I shut the hood and grimaced. The patrol car was a goopy mess. “We’ll have to hit a car wash before the heat hardens the bird crap.”

“I’ll add that to our to-do list.”

Dumping the empty bottle in the trunk, I glanced at Miss Kitty and smiled. She was a cute little thing.

“Move it, Gemma. Daylight is burning.”

I saluted Julie and got in the car. Zoom! Off we went. Before I could fasten my seatbelt, the car hit a pothole, and I bounced off the roof. “Hey! Slow it down!”

Julie brought the patrol car to a sudden stop. “Holy cow! Would you look at that. It’s like he went to the dump and brought it all home.”

Pushing myself off the dash, I looked around in disbelief. Chuck’s doublewide trailer had seen better days. The porch leaned to the left and badly needed a new coat of paint. Car doors, old tires, boxes of God knows what, huge clown heads, and piles of trash bags were strewn around the front yard.

I eyed the stack of stained mattresses in the bed of Chuck’s old Ford truck. “He’s turned this place into a hoarder’s wet dream.”

“I checked on Chuck about six weeks ago and it wasn’t this bad,” Mom exclaimed.

Julie shuddered. “What kind of nasty critters are lurking in that mess?”

“Don’t know. Don’t wanna know and I ain’t lookin.”

Chuck charged out of the trailer with a shotgun in his hands. “Git!” He fired a round in the dirt. “Or I’ll start shooting.”

“Damn, he’s not wearing his glasses,” Mom sighed.

A laugh broke from me. “Or his pants.”

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