Extreme Prejudice

Chapter 5

5

Caden’s cobalt-blue Audi roadster was parked in front of Rudy Pratt’s driveway when I pulled up behind him. The setting sun had smeared the western sky with a palette of fuchsia, blood orange, and lavender.

As I climbed out of the Gray Ghost, wind gusts tugged at my ponytail and whipped the bougainvillea bushes in the Pratts’ front yard like a flag, sending scarlet petals tumbling down the street.

I hugged Caden as he got out of his roadster. He had a sparse but scraggly beard and wore his hair in a well-gelled fauxhawk. Though a few inches shorter than me, he was ripped from an intense bodybuilding regimen he’d been on lately.

On his left hip, he carried a Taser pistol, similar to mine, as his primary weapon. A twenty-six-inch collapsible baton sat in a holster on his right. I knew he also had a SIG Sauer P229 .40-caliber concealed inside his waistband at the small of his back.

“How’s it going, bro?” I asked.

“Kicking a*s and taking names. So that was you with Warren?” he asked with a wry smile.

I shrugged and glanced down the street. “Where the hell’s Rodeo?”

“Come on, Jinxie. It’s cool.” He chucked me on the shoulder. “You’re a badass. Who else could pull off something like that?”

“Yeah, a badass who prefers to stay out of the limelight if I can help it.”

“You going to Juanita’s fundraiser next week?”

Juanita Valdez was a trans woman who mentored me when I came out. She currently owned the Main Drag, the most popular queer bar in the city.

“What fundraiser?” I asked.

“The Barbra Shop Quartet. Four queens performing Barbra Streisand songs in a barbershop quartet style.”

I shuddered at the thought. “Good f*****g grief! That’s insane.”

“Yeah, but they're raising money to rebuild the Queer Youth Shelter after some asshole torched it last month.”

“If it’s to support a good cause, I’ll be there. Besides, Juanita would have my a*s if I missed it.”

Caden laughed. “Yeah, she can be scary when she’s pissed.”

Rodeo’s turquoise Mazda Miata turned onto the street and rolled to a stop behind my SUV.

“’Bout damn time,” I said as he got out of his car. “Is it New Year’s already?”

Rodeo was clean-shaven with an athletic build. He wore mirrored aviators and a Stetson that arched over his head.

“Very funny.” From his trunk, he pulled a shotgun loaded with beanbag rounds. “Just wait till you have kids.”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” Rodeo teased. “Just a matter of time before you and Conor adopt a few of your own. Gwyneth would love some cousins to play with.”

“I can just see Jinx now,” replied Caden, “carrying a baby on her hip in a little Kevlar onesie.”

“You two are seriously delusional. Let’s bag this deadbeat already.”

I gave Rodeo and Caden the 411 on Pratt. “He’s charged with murder. No priors, but he has multiple weapons registered in his name, so stay frosty.”

Rodeo asked, “What’s the plan?”

“Standard procedure for now. I’ll hit the front door. Rodeo, you cover the back. Caden, stay here by the vehicles and keep an eye out in case Pratt sneaks out the garage or side window.”

Caden sighed dejectedly. “Why do I always have to stay by the vehicles? I want to be where the action is.”

I patted him on the back. “I need a lookout. You up to the task, or you gonna b***h?”

“I’m up for it.” He crossed his arms. “Sometime I’d like to cover the back door and let Rodeo keep lookout.”

Rodeo clapped him on the shoulder. “Hang in there, little man. I used to be the newbie. Now it’s your turn.”

Pratt’s house was a combination of white siding and tan brick. A red sign reading “Christ Is Born” stood in the yard, next to an inflatable snowman, currently deflated.

A white Toyota Camry sat parked in front of the two-car garage. The license plate matched the one listed on Pratt’s bail application. Between our three vehicles, we had the driveway blocked, but some FTAs weren’t above plowing across their own yard to avoid going to jail.

Rodeo scooted around the side of the house.

“Let’s get this party started.” I strode to the front door. “You ready, Rodeo?” I asked into the walkie.

“Ready and waiting.”

“Caden?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

My pulse quickened. This was the scariest and most exciting part of the job. Anything could happen and usually did.

I drew my Taser and pounded on the screen door. “Open up! Bail enforcement!”

After a minute or so with no answer, I pounded again. “Open the door, Mr. Pratt, or we’ll force our way in.”

I heard hushed voices inside. I had no way to tell if one of them was our guy or not.

“Last chance!” I shouted. “If we come in by force, you’ll wish you’d surrendered voluntarily.”