Silverback

Another Ride in the Cruizer

Sarah hung up the receiver and made the five-stride distance to the bedroom of her small apartment. She didn’t mind the size; it was just her and her dog after all.  They didn’t need much room. She'd waited on the waiting list for this place for six months just to get one with a pet patio, a patch of grass that she would be able to enclose with iron fencing for an additional fee. She anticipated adopting a dog and just as she moved in, Thalia was released.  It worked out great for both of them. It was even better when the new fencing was installed two and a half months after Thalia moved in, making their morning rituals convenient for both. 

Thalia was still enjoying her treat, so Sarah decided on a hot shower to calm her nerves.  She undressed and kicked her clothes into the corner piled with several days’ worth of dirty outfits and damp towels.

“I’m going to have to get that done tomorrow.” She lied to herself.  She never did laundry until absolutely necessary and sometimes not even then.  She twisted the old-fashioned porcelain knobs until the water ran at the perfect temperature, steamy hot, but not scalding. 

Pulling back the pastel, floral curtain, she stepped under the thumping spray from her massaging shower head, closing the curtain in one fluid motion.  It was common for Thalia to wait for her at the doorway so when she noticed movement in the room, she attributed it to her pet.  “Just taking a quick shower, Thalia, I’ll be out to brush you in a jiff.”

Sarah closed her eyes and allowed the water jets to thump against her scalp and shoulders sending a relaxing sensation throughout her body.  An involuntary sigh escaped her lips as she wished the hot water would last longer than it’s normal 4 minutes tonight.  She didn’t know if the building owners had set it that way to discourage people from wasting water or if the tank for her unit was exceptionally small, but it was irritating on a night like tonight. 

The water temp dropping slightly was her cue to quickly lather up if she wanted it rinsed before the water turned to ice.  She grabbed the lavender and vanilla scented shampoo from Bath and Body Works.It was her go-to scent. She would need the lavender and vanilla aromatherapy, along with a cup of vanilla and chamomile tea to calm her mind after her realizations this evening.

Thunder clapped and the lights flickered.  “Crap!”

In response to her startled cry, she heard Thalia enter the room at a trot. “Always a protector, aren’t you, girl?” Sarah said through the curtain, cranking off the water. Reaching to pull the curtain open, she noticed an odd shift in the light of the room, like something large passed through the doorway.

She stepped out to grab a towel and almost landed on Thalia who was laying on the rug next to tub.  “Girl! How did you do that?” Sarah exclaimed. “I just saw you walk out of here.  It must be the heat lightning casting shadows. I forgot to draw the blinds, didn’t I?”

Thalia rose to her feet and started a slow wag as she looked up at Sarah.  “I’ll take that as a,’ Yes.’”

Wrapping her hair in a small, pale-yellow towel and her body in an oversized dusty-blue one, Sarah stepped over to the fogged-up mirror above the sink. Using her bare hand, she cleared it enough to check if she needed to break out her make-up wipes.  Remnants of mascara remained in smudged patches beneath her eyes.

Without looking, she opened the drawer to her right and reached in.  Instead of the cool plastic container of wipes, her hand met with an unfamiliar wooden box. She froze, her brows knit in a perplexed expression in her reflection.

Moving just her eyes, she watched her hand withdraw the box from the drawer. “What the?” she said softly as she examined the intricate pattern created by the two different types of wood.  The dark wood was mahogany.  The lighter wood was tinged pink.  It wasn’t a natural color. It had to be stained. The box was sturdy.  Both craftsmanship and art were exceptional.

The top of the box was decorated with a simple swirl, reminiscent of yin & yang. The focal point of the sides was a pinkish tree on a dark background.  It seemed to mature from season to season as she turned it in her hand.

She held her breath as she lifted the top from the box.  The interior was lined in a silky faded purple material, but it was otherwise empty.  She turned toward Thalia and asked, “Who left this here?”

The distinct sound of her sliding patio door slamming shut, made her jump.  Thalia just stared up and started her slow tail wag.  Sarah reached down and patted her dog on the rump to move her so she could access the cabinet beneath the sink.  Moving quickly but trying to be as silent as possible she pulled out a matte black lockbox with the key sticking out of the latch. She set it down gently on the back of the toilet. Turning the key and lifting the lid, exposed her chrome plated .360. 

Most women would have kept it in a nightstand, but Sarah thought keeping it there was too cliché.  No one trying to rob her would look among her cache of lotions, sprays, and toilet paper for a gun.  That logic paid off tonight.  She inserted the clip in the butt of the gun and slapped it in place with the heel of her hand. She chambered a round and aimed the pistol at the doorway as she slid her feet, inching towards the threshold.

“Oh shiiiittt.” Sarah whispered as she scooted closer to the doorway.

“Is someone in here?’ she called out immediately regretting it.  What the hell would she do if someone responded?

Sarah pulled her weapon closer to her chest so it wouldn’t reach the threshold before she could see into the living room. She peeked quickly and pulled her head back in.  “There’s no one out there, T” she said trying to convince herself even though her peek left that matter inconclusive.

She turned her eyes to her dog who c****d her head trying to decipher Sarah’s strange behavior.  “Okay, Girl.  I’m going to clear the house.  Stay here.” 

With that command, Sarah bolted into the living room aiming her pistol to the corners of the room.  “Clear!” she shouted like she was playing a role on the set of NCIS. She eyed the bar that separated the living and kitchen areas.  It was large enough to hide behind.  “Hey! I saw you move back there. Come out with your hands up!”

No one stood up so she held her breath as she shuffled close enough to peer behind it. “Oh, thank God.” She whispered to herself.  That just left the Bedroom and its closet.Her kitchen closet was too full storing a vacuum, trashcan, and cleaning supplies to hide anyone weighing over sixty pounds.  Thinking the perp was probably older than five, she decided to check the bedroom next.  She took her left hand off the gun and reached out for the knob. Her right hand started to tremble slightly.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Sarah dropped her pistol at the sound of someone’s fist beating her door. “Sssshhitt! Oh, I cannot believe it didn’t go off.” 

“Hey! What is going on in there? Are you okay?” she recognized the voice of her upstair's neighbor.

“Just a second!’ Sarah responded pushing out a relieved breath. “Be right there.”

Guns were strictly prohibited in her complex.  It was grounds for eviction, so she swiftly scooped it up and stuck it in the refrigerator on the way to the door.

She swung it open revealing, Jorge.  He was a handsome guy in his early 30’s.  He had perfectly white teeth and bore a striking resemblance to A-Rod.  “Hey, Girl. What the hell is all the racket?”

“Hmmmm, Oh. I thought I told you.  I was thinking about auditioning for some of the movies being filmed this summer up in Chicago.  They are casting a bunch of cop extras.  I was just practicing.  Sorry I bothered you.”

“You are gonna need more practice” He said shaking his head. “That was not convincing.  Sounded like you were scared to death.  And you may want to stop slamming your sliding door so hard.  It knocked my fern’s stand over.  It wasn’t exactly looking healthy before, but now it really looks like shit.”

Sarah looked at him, mouth slightly agape at hearing him confirm the door slam. She hadn’t checked the bedroom yet. Her head and eyes turned to that closed door.  Not wanting to endanger Jorge, but not wanting to face an attacher alone, she knew she had to come clean only without letting him see her gun.

“I wasn’t really practicing my acting.  When I was getting out of the shower, I heard the sliding door slam.”

“Daammn, Girl. Why the hell are you still in there! Get out. I’m gonna grab a bat and wait with you until the cops get here. Come on!” He stepped into her apartment and started to pull her out.  The arm tug caused the tuck in her blue towel to loosen and it fell to the ground.

Acting like a perfect gentleman, he bent down, not looking at her exposed body and flipped her towel up towards her.  “I didn’t see anything.” He lied looking at the ground in front of her uncomfortably.

The rosy color that glowed on his cheeks made her wonder if he had ever seen a naked woman in the flesh, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had to make sure there was no one lying in wait in her bedroom.

“Thanks,Jorge," she said as she wound the towel back around her torso."I will leave this door wide open.  Go grab the bat, and I will get my phone, it’s right over there. See?  I’ll call the cops and you can come wait for them with me.”

He shyly lifted his eyes to hers.  Without a word, he nodded, turned, and ran up the steps taking 3 at a time.

“Wow, what a difference between him and Michael.”  She didn’t know which was odder, Michael’s shamelessness in exposing himself or Jorge’s obvious embarrassment in seeing a little skin.

Sarah moved to the refrigerator, pulled the gun out and returned to the bathroom where Thalia still stood.  Closing the door behind her, she acknowledged T.  “Good, Girl!”  Opening the cabinet, she knelt and dislodged clip, unloaded the round from the chamber, and stuffed the .380 back in its box behind her toiletries. For good measure, she stuffed a few wet towels in on top of it. 

“Hey! Where are you?” Jorge called to her when he returned.

“Getting dressed. I’ll be right out.”  She answered as she pulled the towels back out.  “That will look like I’m hiding something.” She said to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll be right out!” she projected her voice toward the living room where she knew Jorge waited nervously. 

“Does it look like anything is missing?” Jorge’s voice came from directly behind the door.

“No, I don’t think so.” Wanting him to back away from the door she added, “I don’t have any clean clothes in here. Can you grab me some from the drier?”

“Uhhhh. Sure.” He said quietly and moved to the closet that held the stacked washer/drier combo.  All of the apartments were set up the same so he knew where to find it. Even though he felt uneasy, like he was invading her privacy, he pulled open the drier door.  Making things worse, a ridiculously large load of lingerie, mostly in nude tones, filled the drier's interior.  He picked through it looking for something with more than minimal coverage.

Sarah pulled on the damp and slightly dirty t-shirt with wrinkled up jean shorts.  Her reflection confirmed that she wasn’t wearing a bra, but she didn’t care.  It would be interesting to see how Jorge reacted. “Hey, I forgot. That’s just underwear.” She said as she and Thalia emerged from the bathroom.

Jorge stuffed the peach-colored, lace thong he was holding back in the drier and slammed the door.  “Ha, ha, ha.” He giggled nervously.  “I didn’t see anything else in there.”  Guilt washed over his face.

Sarah found his reaction charming. It had been a long time, if ever, that she saw a guy act so vulnerable and innocent. 

“The police should have been here by now.” He said.

“Whoops.  I forgot to call.”

He looked at her strangely. “You forgot?’

“Yeah, I was worried about getting dressed, I guess. I’ll do it now.” She answered him as she walked toward the old landline phone.

The reference to her nudity made him drop his head back to the carpet. “I see.  Tell them to hurry up.  That creep may still be in the complex.”

Jorge opened the door at 10:44 p.m.  Two uniformed officers entered Sarah’s apartment.  She recognized them and immediately felt nauseous.

“Oh, It’s you.” Greeted the short one with a sandy flat-top haircut as he looked over at his partner and smirked.

“Always a pleasure.” Sarah responded, not hiding her sarcasm.

“How much have you had to drink tonight, ma’am?” The other cop, the same one who had pulled her car over five years ago, asked with a stern expression.

His attitude showed how stupid he was considering what she could do to his reputation and his livelihood if the video still existed.  Confident arrogance meant he was certain that she wasn’t willing to drudge up her own dirty laundry to bring him down or maybe he had started believing his own lies.  It didn’t matter.  He had friends in high places, so he probably thought he was bulletproof.  The one in particular that Sarah loathed most was the editor of Coventry Press.  That man still stood by the lying cop and refused to take the story down from the web, even after the facts came out in court.  If she ever won the lotto, exposing the editor’s rumor mongering was on her short list.

“We called you about a break in.” Jorge said looking confused at the exchange between the police and a victim.

“Sir, do you live in this apartment?” asked the short cop.

“No, but…”

“Were you a witness to the ‘alleged’ break in?” his interrogation continued, finger quoting, alleged for affect.

“No, but…”

“Then, I need to ask you need to leave please. Have a good evening.”

Jorge’s shoulders dropped as he started for the door.  He glanced back at Sarah with a puzzled expression. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He mouthed to her without audio.

Lawrence, the cop that had brutally pushed her onto the hood of her car on a fateful winter night, opened the door for Jorge, then shut it more forcefully than necessary.

The short cop nodded to him, then turned to her, neither of them spoke to Sarah for a full minute.  They just stared, motionless.

“Uhmmm.”  She started feeling weaker without Jorge to witness what might happen next.  “Well, the door that I heard slam when I got out of the shower was that one, over there.” She motioned to the sliding door.

The cops looked at each other without expression.  Their eyes turned back on her as her former-arresting officer slid his hand to just above his left buttock where the black leather handcuff case was affixed to his belt.

“I-I-I thought maybe I was hearing things,” the words came more quickly as her nervousness crept in. 

Lawrence tilted his head back and tapped his fingers on the cuffs slowly one at a time.

“But-but I found this.” She turned to fetch the box.

“Hold it a minute, Ma’am” the short one broke his silence side-stepping to block her exit from the room.

“First, tell us what you supposedly found.” Chimed in the Lawrence, still tapping.

“It was a box.  I found it on my couch.” She lied. “It was there.” She pointed at the poppy red and orange floral sofa.

“Sooooo, where is it now?” short cop asked drawing out the “O” with a mocking tone.

“I put it in my bathroom drawer.”

“Now why would you do that?”

Lawrence didn’t give her time to answer, adding to his partner’s question. “Why would anyone in their right mind do that?”

Short cop shrugged in answer to Lawrence, then turned back to her, waiting for her response.

“I don’t know really. I was scared.” Sarah said in a low, defeated tone.

Lawrence c****d his head toward his left shoulder, then his right popping his neck.  He took a step towards her with his hand still on the cuffs.

She back-peddled two steps quickly swinging her hand up in a defensive posture.

A smile crept up on one side of Lawrence’s face. “What’s wrong?”  Without letting her say anything he turned to the short cop.  “She’s acting strange.  Do you think she’s drunk?”

Anticipating how this night was going to end, Sarah’s mind flashed back to the filthy jail cell.  Her decision to go braless was looking increasingly unwise.  She didn’t speak as the color of her cheeks turned a splotchy red.

Short cop reached behind his back slowly with his eyes fixed on hers.  His hand returned to the front with a small leather-clad notebook and pen.

Sarah stood frozen afraid to breathe.

He c****d his head towards Lawrence.  “What do you think? A ticket for false informing for wasting our time?”

Lawrence just smirked.

“Ma’am we are here to investigate this alleged break-in and you stand here creating some story about a box in your bathroom.  Don’t you think that’s selfish of you when we have real crimes to solve?” He paused for a beat, then continued, “However, your history does prove that you are a criminal.  Now, doesn’t it?”

Sarah looked at him, crossing her arms across her body in a self-hug as tears formed in her eyes.  She couldn’t speak.

Slapping the notebook hard against his thigh, he crossed the space between them and said between his teeth, “Answer me.”

Sarah dropped her head, eyes to the floor.  She could feel his breath blowing against her hair.

“I said, f*****g answer me, bitch.”

Sarah cautiously raised her head seeking out Lawrence’s face, pleading with her eyes for him to do something.

The half-smile was still on his lips.  He raised his eyebrows and shook his head in the universal sign for ‘no’.

Dropping her chin back to her chest, Sarah lifted only her eyes to the short cop.  Her affirmation to his question was almost inaudible, “yes, Sir.”

“Huh, I didn’t really get that. Did you Lar? What was that?”

“Yes, Sir,” said slightly louder.

“Raise your head up and look at me when you say it.”

Sarah obeyed; the color had drained from her face. “Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir. What?”

“I have been arrested.”

“Oh, I see. Well, then.  What was it that you did again?”

The tears started rolling down her cheeks.  She attempted to wipe them, but he grabbed her wrist and held it.

“Did you just try to hit me?”

“Wh-wh-what? N-n-n-no, Sir, no Sir.” Sarah started to panic.

“Looks like she was going to hit you, Tom.”

Tom pulled her wrist down and curled it around her back in a swift movement.  “Why would you try to hit me?”

The tear drops tickled her face as they ran down and dropped from the side of her mouth to the floor.  Tasting their salt, she started choking on her own breath.

Lawrence moved within inches of her face. “The tears won’t work this time either.”

Up to this point, Thalia remained quiet in the corner observing the unprovoked exchange between the two crooked officers and Sarah.  When Tom twisted her mom’s arm behind her back though, Thalia sprang to free her. She didn’t just nip at his uniform; she latched her teeth fully on his right calf. 

He cursed in pain and shoved Sarah to the ground. A gunshot rang out and Thalia yelped, releasing Tom’s leg. Sarah jumped to her feet and ran to her beloved pet, dropping to her knees between T and the cop’s gun.

“Are you okay girl?” she asked in a soothing tone as she searched through her dog’s coat for a bullet wound.  Thalia started to pant but stood still as Sarah quickly rubbed her hands through her fur.  Blood started to seep from her right rear leg.  There was a lot of blood, but the bullet just grazed the skin.  Sarah doubted it would require stitches.

Sighing with relief, she embraced her pet and kissed her on the head.  “I’ll clean you up and get you to the vet, T.”

“I don’t think so.” Interrupted Lawrence.  “Your dog attacked my partner.  Animal Control will be called in to pick her up.”

Tom moaned loudly, gripping his leg.

“Don’t even think about touching this dog!” Sarah said in a threating tone. “You lying son-of-a-bitch.”

“Oh, that’s it!” Lawrence grunted as he grabbed her by both upper arms and lifted her to her feet.

Thalia bared her teeth but didn’t advance.

“No, T! Stay!” Sarah commanded hoping this terrible situation wouldn’t get any worse. “Why are you doing this to me? I never told them what you did.  Please, stop.”

“You made a fool of me in court bringing your car in there.  That damned judge doesn’t trust anything I say now because of you.”

“I admitted to drinking.  It was obvious that I didn’t hit anything though.  I didn’t tell him how I really got the bruises.”  She twisted in his grip so she could look him in the eye.  “You are the one who should have been in jail!” she said in a low, angry tone.

“Prove it.”

“Wait! Wait. Wait. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. You are right. Please don’t send my dog with Animal Control.  My neighbor will come down and take her to the vet.  I don’t have any bail money so I will be in jail at least for a few days.  We can talk when you are off duty. Is that a deal?”  Sarah pleaded caring more for her dog than the fact she was setting herself up for another beating.

Lawrence loosened his grip but still held her by the upper arms.  “You are going to be facing some serious charges this time.  The jail is crowded right now.  You will be happy for me to get you out of the cell.  We can call it rehab.”

Tom was sitting on the floor with his pants rolled up to his knee, examining his wounds.  “You’ll need to drop me off at the E.R. on your way to book her tonight. I’m going to need another tetanus shot. That dog is going to be put down after the rabies waiting period.” He smiled even though he was obviously in pain.

Sarah twisted toward Lawrence and mouthed, “please, no”.

“I’ll take care of all of that, Partner. I’ll do you one better than a slow ride in the patrol car to the hospital.  Let’s call for an ambulance.  Your wounds will have to be more serious though.” Lawrence said as he released Sarah’s right arm and drew his matte black Glock. “This might hurt a little."  He stated calmly as he took aim at Tom.

“What are you doing, Lar? Don’t even joke around about that.  Com'on!” Tom held up his hand in a futile attempt to block the oncoming projectile.

Blam! The sound of the single shot so close to Sarah’s head made her ears ring.

Tom’s eyes were wide open and seemed to still be processing the image of Lawrence’s gun hand extended toward him.  Gravity took over for Tom’s muscles and he slumped, then fell with his hands still clutching his bitten calf.

Sarah threw her free hand to her mouth but stood motionless otherwise.

“I’m going to need your gun.” Lawrence said calmly. “it’s under the sink in your bathroom.”

“How did you …”

“I watched you buy it.  I know where you keep it.  It doesn’t matter how I know.  I need it.  Now, let’s go get it.” Lawrence started for the bathroom dragging Sarah by the left arm.

Lawrence shoved Sarah down to her knees in front of the bathroom cabinet. “Get it. Hand it to me with your hand on the barrel. Got it?”

“Yes.” Sarah acknowledged knowing that her gun was going to be the means he used to implicate her.

She opened the lock box and grabbed the barrel of her pistol, twisted and handed it to Lawrence. “Good girl.” He said in a tone that more fitted addressing a dog than a woman.

He roughly increased the pressure of his hand on her shoulder before taking the butt of the gun.  “Get up.” He ordered sliding his hand down to her upper arm, jerking her to her feet. “It’s unfortunate for you that you used your dog to attack my partner and shot warning shots with your gun in order to take his when I was checking out the skirts of the property to determine where your "stalker" entered." He swung her around to look in her eyes and continued, "I heard the commotion, I entered, and you had his gun trained on me.I surrendered my weapon to you, and you panicked and used it to shoot poor what-the-f**k’s-his-name.” Larry shook his head trying to remember his newest partner’s actual name. “When you weren’t looking, I overpowered you and took my weapon, yours and his from you, cuffed you, and here we are. He shot her gun three times into the sofa. Got it?”

Sarah nodded in agreement, knowing that she was headed for prison this time.

The sound of banging fists turned their attention to her door.  “Sarah! Sarah! Let me in!” It was Jorge.

“I’m a dog lover so Thalia can live if you play your cards right.” Lawrence guided her towards the door not releasing her arm.

“Open it.” Lawrence commanded.

She methodically reached out twisting the knob and slowly opened the door revealing her soon to be incarcerated state to Jorge.

“Jorge, please take T. to the vet. She’s been shot.”

“What the hell!” Jorge exclaimed looking past her and the cop who had her by the arm to the obviously dead policeman on the floor.

“Just take her now, Jorge.’ She begged.

“Son, do as she asks.  This will probably be the last favor you ever do for her.”

Jorge looked at Lawrence in a daze, nodded, approached Thalia and led her by the collar out of the apartment careful to avoid making any eye contact with Sarah.

Lawrence pushed Sarah through the doorway after Jorge and Thalia. Stopping in the breezeway, he used his radio to report an officer down and that he needed transport for the shooter.

Sarah was on her way to jail. No, actually prison this time, and there was nothing she could do about it.  Lawrence was a dirty cop and he bested her…again. She needed to get hold of Drew as soon as she was allowed her one phone call.  He alone could gather the cells she needed to start her research.  She knew he would be more than willing to help when he found out what she theorized about Michael.  If she was right, they would both be famous, and her unearned prison stint would be just a small hiccup among all her midlife craziness.

Lawrence pulled down hard on the chain that held her cuffs together, most likely as much to cause her physical pain as to remind her who was in charge at the moment.

“We are going to take a roundabout way to the precinct.  Do you have any objections to that?”  He continued before she could answer. “I’ll say I was taking you in for a drug test.  My squad car’s tracking system will verify we were there at the hospital.  The line will be too long yadada-yadada-yadada.”  He swung his body square in front of hers, hand still holding the chain taut.  His hard gaze made him look almost inhuman, soulless.  She knew what was about to happen…again.

A squad car skidded around the corner, lights flashing and siren blaring, followed by an ambulance. “Don’t even consider opening your mouth.  Got it?” he jerked the chain down hard making her wince.  She nodded knowing that protesting right now would only hurt her slim chances of winning her freedom in court later.  Sarah dropped her chin and stared down at the blacktop as Lawrence’s back-up screeched to a halt dangerously close to them.  The ambulance rolled up behind and two unenthusiastic paramedics slowly emerged, waddled to the back of the vehicle, and returned rolling a gurney.

“Who’s the victim?” the 45ish, overweight female asked, leading the gurney towards Sarah’s apartment door.

“She shot Tom.” Lawrence said nodding toward Sarah.

“Aww, I am so sorry, Lar.  He was a great guy.  You don’t have very good luck with partners; do you?”

“He’s inside, Stella.  Please take good care of him.” Lawrence said in a sorrowful tone wiping his dry eye as if he had been tearing up.

“You, Bitch.”  Muttered the second paramedic spitting between Sarah’s feet as he passed her.

Sarah didn’t raise her head to look at either of the paramedics, the two new cops on the scene or the crowd of her neighbors that had started to gather.  She just allowed Lawrence to pull her to the side of his car and shove her head even further down as he loaded her into the back seat.  She could hear that he was talking to the other officers but couldn’t make out the conversation.  She supposed it was something about him taking her to the hospital for a drug screen like he had mentioned to her moments ago.

He pulled his door open, slid into the seat and clicked the latch of his seatbelt.  “Are you ready for the ride of your life?’ he asked as he adjusted the mirror to view her expression.

She tried not to respond be wasn’t sure her face lacked emotion as she willed it to.

“I can see you are as excited about this as I am.”  He continued to taunt her.  “It’ll take us about twenty minutes to get to the parking lot.  I already called my buddy who operates the gate of the garage.  He owes me a favor.  We will have a nice, secluded spot on the top floor.”

Bullets of sweat formed in the creases of Michael’s forehead. his knuckles, white from clenching his fists.  It took all of his self-control earlier not to break through the patio door of Sarah’s apartment and snap Lawrence’s neck when the parasite was mistreating her.  He knew though that acting rash at that moment would cost his future with Sarah, so he waited.

He hated Lawrence for what he saw him do to Sarah.  His hands should never have touched her. And worse, Lawrence interrupted the Lourdi ritual, his first step to claiming Sarah as his chosen mate.  Sarah wouldn’t spend a minute longer than necessary in Lawrence’s bondage, Michael was about to make sure of that.

His hunting skills were instinctual and still heavily coded in his DNA.  He could stalk without being seen and knew the many weak points of so-called modern man.  His breeding was definitely to his advantage tonight.  He would immediately disable Lawrence's ability to vocalize, then he could let Sarah decide what came next.  .

Michael ducked down in his seat as the police cruiser that imprisoned Sarah did a three-point turn and exited the parking area.  As soon as the glow of the lights safely passed through the cab of his Dodge, he sat up erect, started the engine, and put it in gear.  He allowed a black Toyota sedan to pull out after the cruiser to increase his distance and reduce chances that Lawrence would realize he was being followed.

He could feel the Pict in him surfacing as he tracked his prey down the interstate to the city streets.  The cruiser wasn't headed in the direction of the nearest precinct though. 

"He is making this much too easy."  Michael said to himself, sounding disappointed.

He reached down and pressed the power button for the radio.  The familiar chimes of NPR rang though the cab of the Dodge.  They announced the first edition to a series on Native American music.  He cranked up the volume and let rhythmic thumping of the drums create a welcome vibration in his chest.