And it is getting worse. The base is it's like a war zone. Do you want a tragedy on the news? Is that what this city is waiting for? Because I vote and I know people and I am documenting everything.
Units are 2 minutes out. Ma'am. Lindsay hung up and turned to Todd. Cheeks flushed. Gorgeous and incandescent with righteousness.
Camera ready. Baby, battery's full, Todd said tenderly. Go end that barbecue. She crossed the street ahead of the patrol SUV like a majorette leading a parade. Coral top blazing in the golden light, finger loading itself up for the point.
The Freeman's music was midong. The dominoes were midslam. Mama Ernestine was midstory. And Lindsay Whitley planted her white sneakers at the edge of that green green lawn and delivered the opening line of the rest of her life. You people don't get to turn the street into a zoo.
Officer Grady had 19 years on the job. Silver hair and a stomach that told him things dispatch could not. The call notes on the screen had said, "Large aggressive gathering. Possible threats. Caller feels unsafe." What rolled into view on Dogwood Lane was a red checked tablecloth, a glass jug of sweet tea catching the sun, a domino game under an oak tree, and a grandmother in a sun hat wearing a paper crown that said, "Birthday queen." Boyle, Grady said to the rookie beside him, putting the SUV in park, I want you to watch how this kind of call usually goes, and I want you to remember it.
Rule one, the caller will do all the narrating, and none of it will match the scene. Rule two, there is always a husband with a phone. Rule three, the actual danger level runs opposite to the caller's volume. You with me? Yes, sir.
Then smile. Roke. We're about to get yelled at by a homeowner. The woman in the coral top was already crossing the street toward them at a clip, waving like they were late to her open house. Behind her came a husband holding a phone sideways.
Officers, thank God. This man threatened me. This whole thing is out of control. Anthony Freeman stood by his grill. Aprin on, hands loose, and watched two of his own patrol officers cross his own grass toward him.
Neither of them had ever met him. He had sworn in with the command staff and worked buildings and budgets for three months. And patrol knew their new chief, mostly as a signature and a rumor about response times. Grady had stood honor guard at the swearing in. Four rows back, hung over, squinting.
Anthony did not say a word about any of that. He simply reached two fingers into the apron's front pocket. Where a worn leather case had been sitting all afternoon between a meat thermometer and a pack of gum and slid it into his right hand, and his right hand drifted. Casual as Sunday behind his back. Sir Grady stopped a respectful distance away taking in the scene, the tables, the birthday crown.