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The Ford burst into flames.
“Oh, hell.” I keyed my mic, “Charlie-23 to dispatch, we need the fire department for a car fire in the north parking lot of my location.”
“Copy Charlie-23.”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!Bullets whizzed wildly in all directions, shattering windshields and blowing out windows.
Julie, Mom and I took cover behind a car. “Those bullets are coming from his car, and the idiot has some ’splaining to do,” I snapped.
“We should have kept walking,” Julie grumbled. “Now they’ll blame us for this too.”
“What the hell is in your car?” Sergeant Durham demanded.
“Bullets! I just picked up a box from Dillion’s Guns,” the dude cried.
Kaboom!The car blew into a thousand pieces and flaming debris rained down on the parking lot.
Thick black smoke billowed from the cremated remains.
Dozens of car alarms sounded.
Trees caught fire.
A burning tire ricocheted off a stop sign and smacked into an officer, knocking him flat.
Jerry and Eddie bailed out of their ambulance and dragged him to safety.
“What in the hell was in that idiot’s trunk?” Mom grumbled.
Julie made a face. “A gas can or two.?”
A fire truck rolled up and the firemen quickly got the inferno under control.
A Peoria officer stuffed the crazy dude in the backseat of his patrol car.
“I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know this would happen,” the dude cried.
“You’re damn lucky no one was seriously hurt.” The Peoria officer shut the car door on his protests.
Mom’s cell phone rang. “It’s your father and I bet he’s on a tear.” She let it ring several more times before swiping right. “Hello. What? No. We’re fine. Some moron shot up his car and it kinda got out of hand. Peoria PD and the Glendale SWAT team are handling the situation.” Mom frowned. “No, I don’t think it’s related to your current case. Uh huh. Okay, we’re heading home.” Mom disconnected. “I need some chocolate.”
“Me too. Let’s hit Cerreta’s. I could really use some French Mints,” I said.
Julie smiled. “Excellent idea.”
Sergeant Durham walked up and gave each of us a business card with a report number on the back. “I’ll need your supplemental reports by tomorrow.”
We nodded.
An officer shouted, “Sarge! The fire department found a body in the trunk!”
“What the hell?” Giving us the stink eye, Sergeant Durham jogged over to the burnt-out remains of the car.
“A criminal master mind, he’s not.” Julie said dryly.
I grimaced. “Nope, and if you’ve just killed someone having a public meltdown is beyond stupid.”
“Let’s get the hell out of Dodge, before they try to give you this clusterfuck,” Mom said and practically ran to her truck.