Page 86 of Against the Odds
I gritted my teeth.Don’t antagonize the criminal.But this was Callum. He could no more keep his mouth shut than a pig could fly.
He continued, “If I’m going to throw games, I might as well rake in the cash. So which one’s next?”
Smith drew himself up to his limited height. “I’ll let you know. Has to be a game you’re very likely to win, to make it worth my while.”
“We’ll need a way to keep in contact, now Uncle Wayne’s in the slammer.”
“I will text you. You donothingunless I tell you. Hear me?”
Callum cocked his head. “You want me to withdraw the stolen car complaint? Let you deal with Uncle Wayne? I wonder where he put the five thousand.”
“Already in someone else’s hands, I’m sure. Addicts are always a risk. No, let him rot where he is.” Smith backed away. “And keep your mouth shut. If I get even a hint that you’ve gone to the cops…”
He was headed toward the driver’s side of the parked car, which reduced my concern he had a second guy with him. Without seeing his licence plate, and with the video a dark blur, I didn’t want him getting away.Calculated risk.
I straightened up, my weapon aimed. “Police! Freeze! Right there!”
Smith glanced back and forth between me and the car, judging his chances. Then he turned to me and smiled. “I think there’s been some mistake, Officer.”
“Yeah, yours!” Callum snapped. “I recorded all of that.”
“I think you misinterpreted. I said nothing illegal.”
“Sure,” I said. “Tell that to the GREC. Hands up.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Put your hands above your head. Now!”
Grudgingly, he obeyed me.
“Right. Now walk over to that red car in the drive. Not yours. Turn to face it. Put your hands on the roof.”
“You’re making a mistake. I have friends in the department.”
“I’m sure they’ll be denying it left and right. Walk forward.” I took a step toward him. “Callum, call Iverson.”
Smith grudgingly walked over to Callum’s car and set his palms on the roof above the passenger door.
I closed the distance. “Feet farther back. You know the position.” I kicked at one of his shoes. “Farther.”
“I’ll be lodging a complaint.”
“You do that.” I patted him down, reassured to find that he wasn’t armed. With Callum on the phone behind me, I pulled Smith’s wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. “Ronald Shoemark. No wonder you picked Smith. Hey, Callum, tell Iverson we have a Ronald Shoemark for him to check out.”
Callum did, then came up beside me, saying, “Okay… Got it,” into his phone. He hung up and told me, “Iverson says he knows the guy and don’t let him get away.”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Shoemark twisted to look over his shoulder. “My back’s killing me. I need to stand up.”
“You can move your feet forward,” I told him. “But if you take your hands off the car, I’ll shoot you.”
We stood there for several silent, awkward minutes until the first black-and-white roared up the street toward us, siren blaring. The uniformed officers hurried over, and I showed them my ID, had them put cuffs on Shoemark and read him his rights.
Behind me, Jos called, “Hey? I heard sirens. What’s going on?”
I turned and spotted him standing on our front porch in his bare feet. “We’re fine, Jos. No one’s hurt. Go on inside and I’ll explain later.”
