Page 36 of Crossing Paths
The uniformed cop, a balding man in his fifties, was one Norah vaguely remembered from her infrequent research-related visits to the police station to get copies of incident reports. He eyed Mill with obvious resentment but also a heaping helping of resignation before moving toward where Dash had Zach restrained on Mr. Petra’s porch.
Mill followed a step behind, his gaze darting from the pair of men to the Pax house. Norah resisted the urge to pull back from the window, knowing that the motion would just catch the detective’s eye. Also, there was nothing illegal about gaping through the window at the neighbors’ police drama. If it had been, Mr. P would’ve been a repeat offender.
Cara’s elbow poked her in the ribs, making Norah glance at her sister.He’s the woooorst,Cara mouthed, and Norah nodded vehemently in agreement. Even though he’d been cleared ofthe crimes his former partner had been charged with, Mill still seemed shady, and he tried his best to make the Pax sisters’ lives as miserable as possible.
“Sir, release him and step over there.” The officer stopped at the base of the porch steps, ignoring Mill now that all his attention was focused on the two men.
“He’ll run,” Dash warned, and the rather portly cop seemed to reconsider. Norah couldn’t blame him. Of all the tortures Felicity put them through during their early morning training sessions, the sprints were the worst. Sprinting with Dash chasing her in the mountains hadn’t seemed so bad though. In fact, that’d been…exhilarating. Her face immediately burned hot, even though her sisters couldn’t hear her randy thoughts.
The officer seemed to decide he didn’t want a foot chase and climbed the porch steps, skirting the ceramic pots filled with fall flowers. Once he got a hand on Zach’s free arm, he nodded to Dash, who released his hold and stepped away from the two men. Just as Dash predicted, Zach twisted around, trying to tear free of the cop’s grip. The officer gave a shout as he struggled to pin Zach back against the wall, and Mill rushed up the steps to help.
Molly reached behind Cara and poked Norah. Once she had both of her sisters’ attention, Molly mimed eating popcorn. Norah muffled a laugh behind her hand, hoping that any sound that escaped was covered by the wrestling match happening next door. When she looked through the window again, she saw that the cops had gotten Zach down on the porch floor. The uniformed officer had a knee pressed into his back, and he and Mill managed to yank Zach’s arms behind him.
The cop grabbed his handcuffs off his belt and moved to put them on Zach’s left wrist, but Zach wiggled around like a fish, torquing his body so his feet swung around toward the steps. Grunts and breathless shouts echoed from the phone speaker, followed by a loud crash as the flowerpot on the top step went flying, a victim of Zach’s flailing feet.
Norah met her sisters’ equally wide eyes. Mr. Petra was going to be pissed when he saw that. She felt a small pang of guilt for dumping their problem on his doorstep—literally—but quickly dismissed it. Mr. P had caused their family enough hassle over the years. He could deal with a scuff on his pristine porch and a lost flowerpot or two.
The cops finally got Zach cuffed, and the uniformed officer pulled him to his feet, puffing hard enough for Norah to hear his breathing through her phone.
“He attacked me for no reason!” Zach was the first one to suck in enough air to speak. “I don’t even know him, and he hit me hard enough to knock me out. I think I have a concussion thanks to him.”
The cop ignored his ranting, donning gloves before patting Zach down. When he pulled out the lock picks, holding them up so Mill could see them, Norah squirmed with excitement. Things had been going so badly for them the past several weeks. It was such a relief to have something finally go right.
Finishing his search, the cop shoved him toward Mill. “Stick him in my car, would you? We’ll talk to this guy first.” He gestured at Dash, who was leaning against the porch railing far enough away that he was out of reach if Zach tried to kickout but close enough to allow Norah and her sisters to hear everything.
Although Mill looked sour, likely from being treated like the uniform cop’s lackey, he did as he was asked, hauling Zach down the steps toward the cars parked at the curb. As they reached the sidewalk, Zach swore, kicking out at the decorative glass globe next to him. It exploded with a crash that made Norah jerk back with a wince, that sliver of guilt for messing with Mr. P’s property poking at her again.
The cop copied Dash’s name and other information off his license before handing it back. “So what happened here?”
“I was on a run and saw that guy breaking in.” He gestured toward the door that still sat ajar. “I stopped him. He tried to hit me. I punched him in the face. Knocked him out for a bit. Called 911. He came to, so I pinned him against the house until you arrived.”
Norah had to smile at his Hemingwayesque way of telling a story. She appreciated that about Dash. Everything was laid out clearly and succinctly with no room to agonize over hidden meanings.
The cop eyed the phone still in his hand. “Were you videoing us earlier?”
“No. Called my girlfriend. She was worried.”
Norah felt her face warm at the “girlfriend” mention, and she very carefully didn’t look at her sisters. Even though he was just making up a story, the word still made her stomach flutter in a new way she wasn’t sure she fully approved of.
“Knocked him out in one hit?” At Dash’s affirmative tip ofhis chin, the cop continued. “You in law enforcement?”
This time, Dash shook his head.
“Military?”
Dash gave a short nod. “Now I own a gym.”
“Ah.” The cop seemed to relax a little now that he had an explanation for Dash’s skills. “You were on a run? You’re a long ways from home.”
“Five and a quarter miles.” Norah saw Dash’s shoulder lift in one of his familiar shrugs. “Today was a distance run.”
“Huh.” The cop sounded skeptical, but Norah was pretty sure he didn’t doubt Dash’s story. He was more confused by why anyone would purposefully run without being forced. She could relate. “You know the homeowner?”
“No.”
“How’d you know that guy was breaking in then? Maybe he just locked himself out.”
“He was picking the lock.” Dash didn’t hesitate in answering. “When I approached him, he tried to hit me.”
