Curly Horsing AroundJerry arrived home to find Kit sitting in a kitchen chair in the middle of the paddock. Jackson had wrapped a tea towel around a packet of frozen peas. She held it to her forehead and tried to ignore the water dripping down her face. Bouffant grazed nearby, his body language relaxed as he gave a giant, grass filled yawn.
“What now?” Jerry demanded. “Why is that man pointing a handgun at our shed?”
The undercover detective wore a Kevlar vest over his white shirt. He stood by the front corner of the rusty structure and reaching forward, rapped three times in quick succession on the shed door. “Come out with your hands in the air!” he shouted. “Armed police! Come out and throw your weapons on the ground! Then lie face down in front of us!”
His hastily summoned colleague
