Blood Hunt

5

Once Wayne had been tucked into the surgery ward with pain killers and a guard Toews introduced as Alan Serk, a reserve officer formerly a highway trooper, they finally left. Standing outside breathing in the night air, Toews said, “I can answer your question now.”

Garreth blinked. “What question?”

“You asked earlier whether I would trust you to back me up. The answer is yes. Yes, I would trust you.”

Garreth felt his throat catch.

Toews raised a brow. “If you’re not bushed from hunting ancestors, bussing dishes, and taking down Wayne, how about riding along with me for a while.”

He ended up riding along until the end of the tour at four.

“How do you come to have an eight to four shift?” he asked as they walked Kansas Avenue checking store doors.

“It’s Chief Danzig’s way of making six sworn officers — five now, not including him — an effective force. We have five shifts, four with one officer each, but overlapping so the periods of greatest activity are covered by at least two and often three officers. I’m alone now until four, and Bill Pfannenstiel is for the first four hours of his shift, but that isn’t usually a problem since it’s almost always dead quiet after midnight, even with the bars being open until one. Except for DUI’s on Friday and Saturday, when the weekend drinkers come out to play.”

Bearing him out, long minutes of silence on the radio were been broken mostly by time checks and a occasional request for car registration and driver license checks by deputies in sheriff offices for this and surrounding counties. Garreth quickly gathered that all the area law enforcement agencies used the same frequency.

“Mostly this shift does what we’re doing now, check the businesses here and out along 282 and make sweeps through the residential neighborhoods. We wouldn’t have to rattle doors but it’s kind of tradition and makes us visible. We’ll drive down the alleys and physically check only the doors on the banks, jewelry store, and drug stores…unless something looks hinky.”

“What if there’s a situation where you need backup?”

“We have three reserve officers like Serk, one who is a designated responder at night, like a volunteer fireman. Doris calls him. The SO’s hear our traffic, too, and if there’s a deputy anywhere near, he’ll respond if necessary. But yeah…” Toews shrugged. “…it can happen there’s no time for backup and I’m on my own.” He eyed Garreth. “That idea scare you?”

“I’d be an idiot if it didn’t. It isn’t what I’m used to.”

Toews nodded. “But somehow we usually manage to handle it. We have to.”

“What was your plan for handling Wayne?”

“Wait until he was at the truck door then yell, ‘Make it a head shot, Duncan!’”

Garreth stared in disbelief. “What kind of plan is that? He’d have — ”

“Panicked…shoved Sharon away and jumped in the truck to run for it, his sole thought being self-preservation.” Toews headed back for the patrol car. “Like most bullies he’s a coward, and everyone knows Duncan is a crack shot just itching to use his sharpshooter training. I like your plan better, rescuing Sharon and nailing Wayne at the same time. We’d have Sharon safe with mine but have to organize a man hunt for Wayne.” His brows rose. “Why are you smiling?”

Was he? Garreth felt his ears heat up. “Well…when you came into the Main Street I pictured you on a horse leading a posse.”

Toews laughed. “I do have a horse, a sweet Skipper W mare quick as a cat, but I only use her for working cattle and cutting. I don’t suppose you ride.”

“No.”

They drove down the Kansas Avenue alleys then out to 282. “So what do you do for fun off-duty?”

The most truthful answer was: hang out with Harry and work cases on his own time. Instead, he said, “Hunting and pool.”

“You any good?”

“Hunting depends on the game, but I’m an excellent shot. And…” He might as well admit it. “…better than excellent at pool.”

Toews’ eyed him. “Meaning?”

“Don’t bet against me in a game. My grandfather Anton Mikaelian never let anyone forget that the pool halls he ran in Chicago and Sacramento fed and clothed his family through Prohibition and the Depression and all his sons and grandsons better by god show appreciation by learning to play as soon as they could hold a cue and reach the table, even if they had to stand on a stool. Like I did at age five.”

Toews smiled. “Then I’ll take you to the American Legion some evening. We’ve got some fellows there who are pretty proud of their games. Maybe we can make a little money.”

They circled behind the Co-op elevator and pulled up behind a parked car with steamed windows. Toews flipped on the light bar, but remained in the car…picking up a clipboard and making notes…letting the other car reflect alternating red and white light.

“You’re not going to see who it is?”

Toews shook his head. “I know who it is…him anyway, her probably. They’re legally consenting adults, if just barely. Both live at home, which is why they’ve come out here.”

“Oh…you know the car.”

He nodded, still writing. “That cop wisdom: learn who the people in your territory are, what they do, where and when they do it? Piece of cake in Baumen. Of course, a lot of these people are either friends or I’m related to them by blood or marriage.”

Garreth knew his share of street people and felonious types in San Francisco, but what must it be like being familiar with everyone around you, good as well as bad. “So you never check these guys out?” He doubted he could go that far.

“Rarely, as long as they’re not minors. They’re embarrassed enough right now.” He smiled wryly. “ I’ve been where they are.”

A sense of deja vu touched Garreth. Seconds later he realized why. This felt almost like his rookie days, absorbing wisdom from his training officer.

“We’re a friendly department. Small but effective.” Toews burped the siren. “Come on, Kevin; move out.”

“Friendly. Like the friendly sharpshooter Duncan?” Garreth said.

The lights of the other car came on. It gunned away, the wheels spitting gravel back at them.

“Ed, yeah.” Toews sighed. “Every department has one, don’t they. You just have to make allowances for Ed’s birth defect.”

Garreth frowned. “Birth defect?”

Toews killed the light bar. “Being born with an asshole where his brain should be.”

Somewhere in laughing, Garreth found Toews became Nat in his head. And he pulled a mental double-take. Had he heard what he thought he heard? This was like his rookie days. “Are you giving me a sales pitch…trying to recruit me? You’re crazy.”

“We need another officer.” Nat put the car in gear. “It’s a great American tradition, coming west and starting over with a clean slate.”

“I’m from the West.”

Nat snorted. “California isn’t the West, just far out. Think about it. Ride along with me again tomorrow night. There should be a little more action, though hopefully not the Wayne Hepner kind. Come by the station early enough to meet some of the other officers.”

The offer pulled at Garreth. He knew he would enjoy another ride-along, but since joining was out of the question, no longer than he would be around — even if they would have him here — and he remained officially an SFPD officer, he was better off keeping away from temptation. “Verl’s offered me a temp job. I have an obligation to show up.”

Nat nodded. “Of course. However…I’m betting Verl will apologetically retract the offer. Irene will have come begging to keep her job, with some plausible excuse for the other night — she had to take her mother to Hadley, the regional medical center in Hays, or something — and forgot to tell Verl ahead of time. It might even be the truth. Verl will forgive her yet again because she’s got no husband and two kids and her mother to support.”

“This is more knowing who, what, where, and when?” Garreth said.

“Sadly. See you at the station I hope.”