We arrived at the scene 15 minutes later to find more than a dozen motorcycles tearing around in the parking lot in the late winter cold and driving across the now broken up remnants of what had been the front entry porch. The door was standing wide open and the dark tinted glass front window was shattered. Inside we could see that there were more bikes and bikers.
Outside, one biker fired a shotgun into the air and hollered something, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying above the roar of all of his marauding fellow gangbangers on Harleys.
Three cruisers were already on the scene, amassed across the road. Barb’s own SUV was over there too, several yards behind the three cruisers, but I couldn’t see her inside.
Mel pulled in alongside the car of the Patrol Sergeant, Joe Treadway,
