Aaron had seen more action than Miller could imagine. Should we run the tags on his rental? One of the other officers asked. Maybe find something interesting already on it. Miller replied.
Going to show these people what happens when they don't know their place. By the time we're done, won't be a tor left in Eastridge. Aaron's military training kept him rooted in place. Even as every instinct screamed to confront them, he focused on his breathing using techniques honed in far more dangerous situations. The enemy was showing their hand, revealing their strategy.
Let them think they had the upper hand. Through the window, he watched Miller toss his cigarette onto the tor's lawn before climbing into his patrol car. The vehicle pulled away slowly, deliberately, a predator's casual departure meant to intimidate. The sun crept over East Ridg's horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Aaron Taylor walked down Main Street, his military boots clicking against the cracked sidewalk.
The morning air was thick with humidity, but he maintained his purposeful stride, checking each storefront with careful attention. Miss Ruby's soul food kitchen was usually open by now, its windows normally bright with welcome. Today, the lights were off. Aaron knocked on the door, and after a moment, Ruby Wilson's weathered face appeared. Her usual warm smile was replaced with worry lines.
"Commander Taylor," she said, unlocking the door. "I was hoping you'd come by." Inside, the restaurant smelled of fresh coffee and biscuits, but the tables were empty. Ruby led Aaron to the counter where citation papers lay scattered. "Three health code violations yesterday," she said, her voice trembling with anger. In 30 years, I never had one violation.
Then suddenly, right after your brother's funeral, they find all these problems. Aaron picked up one of the citations, reading it carefully. Improper food storage temperatures, he read aloud. But your refrigerators are new. Brand new, Ruby confirmed.
Installed last month. That officer, Miller, he came in with the health inspector. Kept touching things in my kitchen, moving stuff around. When I tried to stop him, he said he'd arrest me for interfering with an investigation. Aaron pulled out a small notebook and began writing.
"Did you get their badge numbers? Time of inspection." "Got it all right here," Ruby said, pulling out her phone. "My granddaughter taught me to record everything. Even got some video before they made me stop. Two doors down, Johnson's hardware told a similar story.
Mister Johnson, a man who'd given Marcus his first summer job, stood amid ransacked shelves and broken glass. They said it was a routine inspection, he explained, pointing to overturned paint cans and scattered tools. Claimed they got an anonymous tip about illegal weapons. Tore the place apart. Found nothing, of course.
But look at this mess. It'll take days to clean up. Aaron documented everything. Dates, times, officer names when available. His military training showed in his precise notes and methodical questions.