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'I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I'm going out back. If I come in acting weird, don't be afraid to use that piece on me.' |
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Francine looked up at him, eyes narrow. |
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'Be careful, officer,' Lisa said. |
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'It's Trev,' he told her. Then he hurried to a cabinet behind the counter. It contained keys for three off-duty patrol cars. He gathered them, and ran for the rear exit of the station. |
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He thrust open the door. He stepped outside, hesitated for just a moment under the portico, then took a deep breath and held it and entered the downpour. |
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The rain pattered softly on the felt cowboy hat, the shoulders of his shirt. It tapped the plastic covering his hands and shoes. Though the lights of the parking lot were masked by rain, the area ahead wasn't totally dark. He could see that the rain was falling straight down, so at least he didn't need to worry about it blowing in beneath the wide brim of Patterson's hat, getting into his eyes or mouth. |
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He made out the faint shapes of the three patrol cars straight ahead. Over to the right were the personal cars of Lucy, Patterson, and the four cops who were out cruising (maybe wet and crazy by now and blowing away citizens). |
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Crouching at the rear of the nearest black and white, he tried keys until he found one that fit the trunk. The lid swung up. He felt around in the darkness of the trunk until he found the 12-gauge Ithaca riot gun. He took it out, slammed the trunk, and trotted to the next car. As he opened its trunk and lifted out the shotgun, |
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