Page 10 of Need You
Chapter Three
Colt caught a fist in his gut. It didn’t hurt as much as it pissed him off. He twisted away from his attacker, grabbed his arm in a wristlock, and turned his hand. Colt didn’t want to break the man’s wrist or elbow, so he forced him to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” the man yelped.
“You’re under arrest for assaulting an officer.” Colt wrestled a pair of cuffs from his duty belt.
“I didn’t know you were a cop.”
“You think I wear this uniform because I like to sweat in the hot sun?”
The woman got in Colt’s face. “Let him go. This is police brutality.”
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Both she and the man stank of alcohol.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shot her a look but didn’t respond, cuffed the man, and called for backup because he’d walked to Old Glory and had left his patrol car at the station.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but you’re wrong. We’ll sue you and the department.”
Colt pulled the guy up off the ground and told him to sit on the river wall. A small crowd had formed; some in the group had their phones out and appeared to be taking video.
“Nothing to see here, folks.”
A few people dispersed but most loitered on the sidewalk. It was public property; they could stay if they wanted to. The woman kept screeching about constitutional rights and abuse of power. A short time later one of his officers pulled up in a patrol car and loaded the man into the backseat. She tried to get in the car with him, but Colt told her she’d have to get to the jail in Nevada City, the county seat, on her own. There, she could bail the man—presumably her boyfriend or husband—out of jail.
“Don’t drive until you’ve sobered up or I’ll have to arrest you,” Colt told her.
She cussed him out, stringing obscenities together in ways Colt had never heard before. He gave her credit for creativity. A few shopkeepers came out, watched for a little while, then went back inside. He was getting ready to leave when she delivered her parting shot by vomiting on his boots.
Great!He’d just had the boots polished.
Colt walked back to the station gagging on the stench and took them off before he went inside.
Carrie Jo gaped at his stocking feet and the bits of barf that clung to the bottom of his pant legs. “Oh my God, you smell awful.”
“What are you doing here on a Saturday?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything else to do, so I thought I’d work on updating the filing system. And I suppose I’ll be taking another trip to the cleaners.” She gestured at his lower half. “Off with the pants.”
He shook his head, went inside his office and found a pair of basketball shorts, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes in his closet, and headed to the locker room for a shower. When he got out he wrapped his dirty uniform pants and the boots in a couple of evidence bags. He’d drop them off at the cleaners himself after work.
Back in his office, he started writing the report for the incident when he heard noise coming from the bull pen. It sounded like a small aircraft was taking off from inside the police station. He went out to see what the racket was and found Carrie Jo in the small efficiency kitchen making something green in an industrial-looking blender.
“What the hell is that?” he shouted over the whir.
She turned it off. “It’s for my cleanse. Kale, mango, celery, tangerine juice, parsley, and mint. Want some?”
He scrunched up his nose. “God, no. I thought you were doing that other thing ... Paleo.”
“I decided to do this instead. My friend Rona lost ten pounds in three weeks.”
He sat at the small table and watched her pour the slop into a tall glass. Win drank similar crap, said it made him feel healthier. He shook his head. “Going from trend to trend is not the way to lose weight.”
“Easy for you to say.” She eyed him up and down. “When was the last time you needed to be on a diet?”
“Exactly. I exercise and eat sensibly. It has to be a lifestyle. Fad diets don’t work.”
