Page 6
Story: Stilettos and Outlaws
“What makes you think they’ve stopped?” I rolled the window down.
Julie keyed her radio mic, “Radio, show Charlie-24 and Charlie-23 en route to 40325 West Windmill Road on a welfare check.”
“Copy Charlie-24,” the dispatcher responded.
As we rolled past the Camry, the guys were carefully examining a shitload of packages.
Chapter Two
The sun seeped over the White Tank Mountains, turning the morning sky a beautiful apricot pink.
“I love this time of day. It’s so peaceful, birdsong fills the air, and the smell of fresh cut grass makes you think of picnics at the park,” Julie sighed.
“You do know, you just jinxed us, right?” I handed Julie a candy bar. “Eat that before you start spouting lame poetry.”
“My poetry isn’t lame!”
I snickered. “Roses are red, violets are blue and if you steal my car, I’ll smash your face.”
“Hey, it rhythms. Sorta,” Julie protested.
Mom chimed in, “You’re much better at writing murder mysteries, Julie.”
“Thanks. I actually made money onThe Nun Did it?”
I grinned. “Using the stuff that happens on our calls was a streak of genius.”
“What I like about writing is I can kill as many people as I want and not go to jail.”
A pack of yipping coyotes darted into the roadway in hot pursuit of something small and white.
Julie flipped on the sirens.
The noise frightened the coyotes off.
She slammed on the brakes, missing the white critter by inches. “Whew! That was close. I bet one of Betty White’s rabbits got lose again.”
“You know what that means, don’t you? Yucky lemonade and stale, rock-hard cookies,” I moaned.
“Go catch the little guy and after we visit Chuck, we’ll take the bunny home,” Mom said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Julie and I said in unison.
A flock of loudly honking geese flew over us.
Splat!Splat!Splat!Splat!Splat! Splat! Splat!Bird poop covered the patrol car.
“I told you, you jinxed us,” I cried.
Julie hit the windshield wipers. “Did not.” The blades just smeared the crap around. “Damn, we’re out of wiper fluid.”
Mom started laughing as the stench of cow manure suddenly permeated the car.
“What did you say?” I tapped my chin. “Oh, yeah, peace, birdsong and the smell of fresh cut grass.”
Julie released the hood latch. “Go ahead, yuck it up.”
“Pop the trunk and I’ll get the wiper fluid. With our luck we’ll get in a pursuit and if we wreck another patrol car, the sarge will put us on a walking beat.”
Julie keyed her radio mic, “Radio, show Charlie-24 and Charlie-23 en route to 40325 West Windmill Road on a welfare check.”
“Copy Charlie-24,” the dispatcher responded.
As we rolled past the Camry, the guys were carefully examining a shitload of packages.
Chapter Two
The sun seeped over the White Tank Mountains, turning the morning sky a beautiful apricot pink.
“I love this time of day. It’s so peaceful, birdsong fills the air, and the smell of fresh cut grass makes you think of picnics at the park,” Julie sighed.
“You do know, you just jinxed us, right?” I handed Julie a candy bar. “Eat that before you start spouting lame poetry.”
“My poetry isn’t lame!”
I snickered. “Roses are red, violets are blue and if you steal my car, I’ll smash your face.”
“Hey, it rhythms. Sorta,” Julie protested.
Mom chimed in, “You’re much better at writing murder mysteries, Julie.”
“Thanks. I actually made money onThe Nun Did it?”
I grinned. “Using the stuff that happens on our calls was a streak of genius.”
“What I like about writing is I can kill as many people as I want and not go to jail.”
A pack of yipping coyotes darted into the roadway in hot pursuit of something small and white.
Julie flipped on the sirens.
The noise frightened the coyotes off.
She slammed on the brakes, missing the white critter by inches. “Whew! That was close. I bet one of Betty White’s rabbits got lose again.”
“You know what that means, don’t you? Yucky lemonade and stale, rock-hard cookies,” I moaned.
“Go catch the little guy and after we visit Chuck, we’ll take the bunny home,” Mom said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Julie and I said in unison.
A flock of loudly honking geese flew over us.
Splat!Splat!Splat!Splat!Splat! Splat! Splat!Bird poop covered the patrol car.
“I told you, you jinxed us,” I cried.
Julie hit the windshield wipers. “Did not.” The blades just smeared the crap around. “Damn, we’re out of wiper fluid.”
Mom started laughing as the stench of cow manure suddenly permeated the car.
“What did you say?” I tapped my chin. “Oh, yeah, peace, birdsong and the smell of fresh cut grass.”
Julie released the hood latch. “Go ahead, yuck it up.”
“Pop the trunk and I’ll get the wiper fluid. With our luck we’ll get in a pursuit and if we wreck another patrol car, the sarge will put us on a walking beat.”
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