Page 3 of Booking Burke
Eli keyed his radio mike to speak to dispatch. “Kendall, this is Dixon. I need you to run a plate for me. Mass tag 7734 Kilo Oscar.”
“Got it, Dixon. Hold on.”
“With both hands.” Elias snickered.
The sound of Kendall’s voice had Eli’s dick twitching in his pants. The only good thing about working the Charlie shift was dispatcher, Marc Kendall. With his silky dark hair and grey-green eyes, Kendall was the perfect ten. The only problem with him was that he knew it. His nickname at the station was Ken Doll. Everyone wanted a piece of him, women, men, stray dogs. No one knew if he was gay, straight, bi, or try anything.
Getting out of the marked SUV, Eli approached the stopped car. He could hear the chorus of Taylor Swift’sMefloating back to him. Christ, was there a worse earworm than that damn song? Eli shook his head and flipped on his flashlight. “License and registration,” he barked out, all the while taking stock of the driver.
The man, who looked to be a young twenty-something had both hands wrapped around the steering wheel at the perfect 10 and 2 position. As ifthatwas going to save his ass. There was a definite odor of alcohol coming from the man. Cheap beer, unless Eli missed his guess.
“Yeah, right away, Ossifer.” The man frowned. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. Shaking his head, he tilted to the left, knocking his head on the doorframe, before digging his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out his license and handed it over to Eli.
Burke Sampson, twenty-one years old from Bartlett, New Hampshire. Eli rolled his eyes as the young man sat with his head in his hands. “Registration, Mr. Sampson. Can I assume you’ve been drinking tonight?”
Giving a small nod, Burke reached for the glove compartment, rustling around for a second before he handed Elias a piece of paper.
“Thisisn’tyour registration. It’s the receipt from your last oil change.” Jesus Christ. Fucking kids.
The young man’s eyes narrowed on the paper. “Oh, shit. I grabbed the wrong one.”
“The wrong receipt?” It would have been so easy to have a chuckle with the handsome young man, but this was a serious situation. Drunk driving was no joke. This incident had ended peacefully enough, thank God. Most didn’t. Burke Sampson with his dark wavy hair and matching dark eyes could have easily ended his night wrapped around a tree or accused of vehicular homicide.
“Here it is.” Burke passed another paper out the window. This time it was the registration for his red Ford Focus. It was up to date.
“I’m going to run this information. Give me your keys.” Eli held his hand out.
Burke wore a suspicious look on his face, but did what Elias asked. “Who are you?” His words weren’t slurred this time.
“Salem Police Officer, Elias Dixon. My friends call me, Eli.” Shit! Why the hell had he offeredthatbit of information. This guy wasn’t a friend. He was a potential drunk driver.
The man nodded, but stayed silent.
Eli headed back to his SUV, sliding inside and setting his flashlight down. “Kendall, I’ve got more information on that car. Driver is a Burke Sampson. New Hampshire license number S5876652.”
“10-4, Dixon. Registration on the Ford is in good standing. I’m not getting anything on your driver. He’s squeaky clean.”
Until tonight…“Thanks.” Eli shook his head. What the hell was up with these kids who had the world by the balls making stupid choices to fuck it all up?
Walking back to the car, Eli had a decision to make. Did he arrest this kid and bring him in or give him a second chance and make sure he got home safe? “Step out of the car, Mr. Sampson.”
Burke’s dark eyes looked horrified. He did what Dixon asked without complaint.
“See the white line marking the next parking space. Walk it, one foot in front of-”
“I know the drill, sir.” Burke started to walk, one foot in front of the other, with only a few steps straying away from the line.
Burke’s last words were a bit confusing. Kendall said this kid had a spotless record. How the hell had he known the drill? From television? Fucking cop shows. Eli shook his head. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“Couple of beers.” Burke looked up, making eye contact with Eli. “I’m so fucking stupid, Officer Dixon. Took my last exam today in Criminal Justice Stats and just wanted to blow off some steam before…” He trailed off.
Criminal Justice Statistics? Elias knew that was a senior level class for criminal justice majors. It wasn’t an elective kids needing extra credits would take. “You wanted to blow off steam before what?” Eli had a feeling he already knew the answer to his question.
“Before I start the police academy in six weeks.” Burke’s tone indicated he’d sobered up enough to understand the ramifications of what he’d done tonight.
“Up against the car, Mr. Sampson. Is there anything in your pockets that could hurt me? Weapons? Syringes?” Shit. This wasn’t what Eli wanted to do, but there were regs to follow.
“No, officer. There’s nothing in my pockets at all.” Burke sniffled.
