“Please shut it!’ Officer
Tracy glared at him in the rearview mirror shaking her head. “I’m going to read
you your rights and tape what you have to say. Okay, McShuster?”
Someone pounded on
the window. They both jumped. “Godammit. You just as well kill someone than
scare them half to death,” Tracy growled while sliding open the window. An
officer stood by the squad while glancing around the area.
“Sorry. Sorry,”
the officer said while still surveying the scene. Did he say anything about anyone helping him
here? He a lone gunman or what?” Several other officers crowded in around the
squad dressed up like soldiers, assault weapons held across their chests, the
word “Police” printed on their black outfits.
“If I say something,
can you loosen these?” McShuster leaned forward, exposing his cuffed hands.
“You good with
that, Jill?” The officer asked.
She got out of the
squad and started working a little key in the hole on the cuff. The handcuffs
had worked a deep imprint into his wrist, she noticed, suppressing a grin. Yes
sir … the little bastard got what he had coming.
“Yes, I’m here
doing what I had to do. I’m what you’d call a lone gunman. Wait a minute, I
don’t have a gun. I’m just here, I mean alone. How bad hurt is he?” McShuster
nodded toward Noah. Everyone ignored him.
The SWAT officer
lowered his voice. “Jill, is your daughter alright? Is she at the game?” Tracy
told him Megan was okay; that she had ran her friend to the hospital with a broken
arm.
“Good to hear.
Hang in there, Jill. We got to clear the school.” The group spun from the squad
and trotted into the north entrance.
After reading McShuster
his rights and double checking her device, she exhaled. She didn’t want to hear
it; when it got personal things got harder. Megan had been at the basketball
game. She was okay but was crying after spotting her mom getting out of her
squad, Megan had run up assuring Tracy she was okay but her friend was hurt. Not
shot. Just hurt. She had fallen off a bleacher and a bone was sticking out of
her arm. Megan was going to drive her but promised to drive carefully since ambulances
were waiting to only transport gunshot victims. Courtney was not going to die. She
needed a doctor though because it looked like it hurt. Bad.
“Where do I start
here? This is Officer Tracy. I’m with James McShuster,” she continued with what
sounded like legal gibberish to McShuster: times and dates and locations.
The officer here is clearly attempting to get the legal ball rolling. Her value system is confronting something she doesn't appreciate. I mean, it became personal when the reader discovers her daughter is at the game where a gun man had been on the loose. If you get to thinking the give and take like this would never happen, remember, I was a cop in a prior life.
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