Page 17 of Tucker
“Hewas climbing through Daysha’s window. He called her, and she let him in.”
Thisinstantly causes an argument between them. While they scream at each other,blue lights strike the side of the house, and I wave to the officer, who parksout front.
“He’sbreaking a no contact order. Caught him climbing through the window,” Iexplain.
Thecop nods. “We were informed Striking Back was providing security. Does he havea weapon?”
“Ididn’t search him. Figured he was incapacitated and if he’s carrying, it’d bebetter for an officer to find a weapon than a civilian when it comes to thecourt case.”
Theofficer stands him up and pats him down. “Well, what were your plans withthis?” he asks as he pulls a handgun from the man’s ankle holster.
Glaring,the guy doesn’t answer. By the time the arguing inside ceases, the officer hasthe guy in his cruiser. “We’ll need you to stop by the precinct tomorrow tosign a statement.”
“Noproblem. If he’s released…”
“We’llinform his wife.”
Asthe officer pulls away, Robin approaches me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’dlet him in. She’s watched him hit me for years.” She rings her hands. “Maybe itwould be better if we were relocated until this is over.”
“It’sprobably for the best,” I tell her. “I’ll get in touch with Mason.”
“I’llstart getting us packed. Both of the kids are awake now anyway. I don’t thinkanyone is getting any more sleep tonight.”
Masonanswers his phone quickly, though it’s obvious from his voice I woke him.“Tucker? Everything all right?”
“Everyoneis safe. The asshole ex showed up and his kid was going to let him in herwindow. I took him down, held him for the cops. He’s locked up, but I don’tknow how long they’ll keep him. He had a gun. Loaded and ready.”
“Fuck.Okay, he’s a felon, which makes the gun illegal, so he won’t be out rightaway.”
“Robinsays she’s ready to relocate. She’s packing up now.”
“Good.I’ll make the arrangements and send someone for them in a few hours.”
“I’lllet them know.”
Masonchuckles. “Devon’s going to be pissed. He was complaining about how bored hewas. You relieve him, and the guy actually shows up.”
Chuckling,I shake my head. “He didn’t miss anything. Guy was half my size. Couldn’t havebeen easier.”
* * * *
It’sbeen a shitty day and I’m headed home much earlier than usual for a Saturday. Inever get sick. Didn’t get sick once the entire time I was homeless, butsomething has got ahold of me now. My head aches and my stomach is queasy. Mythroat seems to get more raw with every breath I take and all I want is to gethome and sleep off whatever this is. Thankfully, I don’t have any upcomingassignments for Striking Back.
Snowflurries begin to fall as I exit the highway onto a county road. That’s not agood sign. Having any snow this early in the year usually means we’re in for arough winter. My foot taps the brake when I see a group of people, some wearingorange prison jumpsuits, picking up trash along the edge of the road.
Abag blows across the street, and I stop to let one of them chase it. It’s notuntil she looks up and gives me a wave that I recognize her.
Leah.
Whatthe hell is she doing out here? I yank the wheel to the right, pulling over tothe side of the road and hop out of the truck.
“Hey!”she calls, as if she’s not scooping up refuse with a bunch of criminals. “Whatare you doing here?”
Whatam I… “What the hell are you doing out here?”
Hersmile drops and she takes a step backward. “Picking up trash,” she replies,like she’s talking to a dull child.
“Withprisoners?” I demand.
