I made a note about it in my phone then waited for her to find more.
“As for the time, I don’t see anything on here.” She stopped as she thought about something. “If you know the date and time, you can talk to our security guard. That system was actually updated last month due to a problem we had with a couple of men. A shooting. Do you remember hearing about it?”
I did, actually.
From what I remembered, the shooting had occurred over a spot in line. A person had needed to go to the bathroom, and when that person was done, said person had tried to return to the place in line. Only, another member of the line hadn’t liked that very much so he’d asked that person to go to the end of the line. Things escalated from there, and one had shot the other.
“I’ll go check with him.” I nodded my head in thanks. “Thank you for your help.” I paused before I was too far away and turned back. “This particular kid was from rich as hell parents. Like, they bought him a brand-new truck, so that ‘economic need’ for a ‘job’ isn’t something that he qualifies for. Who, exactly, follows this up to make sure what they’re saying is the truth?”
She rattled off more information, ending with ‘talk to my boss in the corner office’ and pointed next to the security officer’s door.
I nodded my thanks again and went to do just that, but found a note saying that she was out to lunch and would be back in an hour.
My next stop was the security officer’s office.
I held out my hand when I recognized the man.
“Officer Waggoner,” I said. “When did you start working here?”
Officer Waggoner had retired from the KPD last month. I’d attended his retirement ceremony.
“Right after that shooting happened,” he said. “I was one of the first responding officers, and the lovely lady in the corner office offered me a job that I couldn’t refuse. What can I do for you?”
It was about ten minutes later that I had what I was searching for. Time-stamped proof that the kid didn’t have his license at the time of the accident. The little shit. And the shit’s shithead parents.
With my information in hand, I went back to the station and handed that information over to Captain Morgan to do with as he pleased.
His fucking eyes gleamed as he read over what I had.
“C4C Ranch isn’t really a ranch,” Morgan said as he read over what I gave him. “It’s a high-end slaughterhouse where it’s rumored that they don’t treat their animals right. The only reason that I know that is I see them as I go home. My neighbors complain about them a lot. Their cows getting out of the fence because they’re fucking hungry and moving onto their fields. Things like that. I’ll look into this.”
I nodded once. “You have any problem with me going to talk to the family?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No, but what should you be doing today?”
I grinned. “I’m scheduled to be on patrol today, actually. In the same area where I was at to talk to Juniper at the DMV. And, conveniently, in the same area that one ‘Adrian Mastings’ lives.”
Captain Morgan sighed. “Just know that I don’t care. You might want to bring it up with your own sergeant.”
“It’s been cleared,” I lied.
It hadn’t.
But my own sergeant didn’t need to know. At least not yet. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.
At least, that was what I always discovered, anyway.CHAPTER 13Do you think that doing alcohol is cool?-Coffee CupSIERRAGabriel,
Two days ago, I got in my first wreck.
I was driving down Main Street when a trash truck backed out of the grocery store parking lot and slammed right into me.
It was raining, so the impact not only jolted me sideways—the damn man came out fast—but it also made me slide into a ditch.
Though there was help at my door fast, they couldn’t get me out because of how the water was flowing through the ditch I was in, and how badly mangled my car door was.
My dad was one of the first ones on scene, and oh, my God. You should’ve seen his face.
Anyway, everything turned out fine.
Other than getting wet and having to go home to change, I still made it to school on time, even if it was in my dad’s police cruiser.
Hope that your day is going better than mine,
Sierra
• • •
“Where we going today?”
I opened my eyes to find Malachi once again in the seat next to my bed.
He looked like he’d been there awhile.
A half-filled cup of coffee was in his hands resting on the bed next to my face. And he was reading a paper. Who even read the paper anymore?