Page 41 of So Normal

“Leon Presley?” Michael asked.

Presley turned lazily to Michael. When he saw the FBI logo on Michael’s jacket and the K9 vest on Turk, he froze. His face paled, and he said, “Oh shit!” then sprinted out of the restroom.

He knocked Michael on his way out, shoving him against the wall. Turk snapped at him and started to lunge, but then stopped and looked at Faith.

“Go get him,” Faith said. “Take him down.”

Turk sprinted after Presley, with Michael and Faith hot on his heels.

“Stop!” Michael called. “FBI!”

Presley looked behind him then picked up the pace. “Dammit,” Michael muttered, increasing the speed of his pursuit.

Schoenmaker was an overweight man approaching middle age. Presley was younger than Michael’s thirty-eight years of age and in much better shape than Schoenmaker. It became clear almost immediately that Michael wouldn’t catch him. Faith, a daily jogger, outpaced Michael, but she also couldn’t match Presley’s raw speed.

Turk, of course, had no problem reaching Presley, catching him just before he reached an employee entrance.

But not soon enough. Presley rushed through the door and pushed it shut just as Turk leaped. Turk crashed into the door and fell to the ground with a yelp. He quickly rolled over and regained his feet, but Presley was gone.

Michael opened the door and caught him rounding a corner at the end of a long hallway. He rushed after him, drawing his weapon and calling, “Stop! FBI!”

Behind Michael, he could hear Faith and Turk following him. “Call security!” Michael said. “Tell them to stop Presley if they see him!”

Michael chased Presley into a crowded break room. The other employees looked up in surprise at the commotion. Presley slowed to a walk and tried to hide himself in the crowd, but Michael picked him out easily and approached swiftly. After a moment, Presley looked up and swore, then sprinted toward the room door, shoving past people, knocking several to the ground.

“Stop!” Michael called, “FBI!”

The crowded employees somehow managed to get into Michael’s way at every turn, and by the time he left the break room, Presley was well ahead of him, heading for the parking garage.

“Shit!” Michael called. “He’s going for his car!”

He sprinted after Presley with every ounce of his strength, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. “Turk! Get him!” he called.

Turk rushed past Michael, ears flat and tail pointed straight behind him as he pursued Presley.

Presley turned and prepared to kick Turk, but Michael lifted his weapon and said, “You kick that dog, I’ll put one in your knee!”

Faith glanced at Michael in alarm, but Michael ignored her. “Stay where you are!” Michael said. “Stay there!”

Presley looked at Michael, eyes white with fear. Turk reached him, and Faith called, “Hold!”

Turk stopped just before leaping at Presley and stood his ground, growling menacingly at him.

“Okay!” Presley called, eyes white with fear. “Okay! Call your dog off!”

“He’s going to stay right where he is,” Michael said, panting as he approached them, “and so are you until I say so. Put your hands on the back of your head and interlace your fingers.”

“Oh man,” Presley whined. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Put your hands on top of your head and interlace your fingers!” Michael commanded again. “Do I need to have Turk take you down?”

“Okay, okay,” Presley said, putting his hands behind his head. “Okay, just don’t let him hurt me.”

“You stay right where you are, and Turk will leave you alone,” Faith said. “You just stay right where you are.”

Michael holstered his weapon and walked behind Presley. He grabbed his left hand and placed it behind his back, cuffing it, then repeating the process on the right side.

“Am I going to jail?” Presley asked, weeping.

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