Yeah. Cisco had routines. One might even say he was a bit OCD. Not in the “touch the light switch three times and count backward to ten while tying his shoes” kind of way. But in a “everything has a place, and certain time-slots during the day were devoted to habitual proceedings” manner.
“You’ll just have to wait and I’ll…” Cisco trailed off. There was a beige car approaching from the opposite direction, traveling far too fast on the smallish, rural road. “Gotta go, Ma,” Cisco barked. “Somebody’s headed this way speeding like a bat out of hell.”
“Go do your job,” his mother replied swiftly. “We’ll see you soon.” She hung up, and wasn’t that just like her. She never got in the way of what Cisco needed to do.
The person in the small Toyota flew by Cisco. He pulled out of the turnoff and followed, calling it in on his clipped mic.
“This is One-Victor-Bravo, reporting an 11-95 on Forest Ave.”
Maybe it wasn’t a routine traffic stop, because even though he’d turned on his lights and siren, the car hadn’t slowed one bit. Why was that? “Operator not responding. Requesting backup.” Cisco gave his exact location.
“Copy that,” headquarters responded, then came back ten seconds later. “Unit Two-Zebra-Charlie enroute. ETA four minutes.”
“Ten-four, dispatch.”
Cisco engaged his ALPR, which would, within seconds, give him a read on the license plate and let him know who he’d be dealing with.
Before the plate capture came through however, Cisco sped up until he was right behind the vehicle. He saw a lone woman driving, with no one else in the car. He keyed his external mic. “This is the Orono Police. Pull over,” he barked once.
The response was almost immediate as she slowed down, which was kind of odd. She’d ignored his siren and lights, but responded to a verbal hail? The woman’s brake lights came on as she stopped, and Cisco pulled up directly behind her. By that time, her plate had been processed; coming back as belonging to a Deborah Gorner, place of residence, Bangor. No priors.
Cisco got off his bike and approached her driver side window, which she’d just eased down a few inches.
“License and registration, Ma’am,” he politely requested.
At this point it was just a procedural request, but it was always good to see if the paperwork matched what the ALPR had come back with.
“Oh. Right.” Ms. Gorner leaned over her interior console toward the glove compartment, but couldn’t quite reach. She then cursed, and struggled to remove her seatbelt before she was finally able to fumble with the latch, open the compartment, and retrieve her documents. “Here you go, officer,” she smiled up at him brightly and…winked? “Aren’t you the handsome one,” she preened, flipping her hair off her shoulder in a practiced flirt. “And a motorcycle-man, on top of all…that.” Her eyes traveled from his head to his boots and back again.
Hell, no. There was no way this woman was going to charm him out of writing her a ticket, and…he leaned down a little closer as she purred. Goddammit. That was alcohol on her breath. At one o’clock in the afternoon. He huffed to himself before addressing her. “I’ll be right back.”
He strode back to his bike, stood next to it, and examined her credentials while waiting for the cruiser that should be pulling up soon. He wasn’t going to have the woman get out of her car without backup present. Every now and then an officer made the mistake of underestimating a lone, drunk female, and got kicked, bitten, or nail-scraped for their miscalculation. Also, blamed for sexual assault. Cisco wasn’t going to be that guy.
When the black and white finally pulled up and stopped in front of the car, Cisco walked over to fill them in.
“Hey Lucas, Mitzy,” he greeted. “I pulled this one over for speeding, but now it looks like we might have a DUI on our hands.” He looked at the officers he knew well, and gave them a nonapologetic grin. “But since I’m actually off duty right now, and headed to my parents’ house for a late lunch, I’m hoping you can perform the necessary sobriety test.”
“Asshole,” Lucas grumbled. “Just what we need. A drunk woman who’s had a look at you, and thinks she might be getting off with a BJ instead of an arrest.”
“Hey,” Mitzy mock-scolded from beside him. “Stop stereotyping, asshole. Not every woman wants to suck Andera’s dick.”
Cisco winced and grinned. The banter between these two was always epic. Mitzy had been on the force for twenty years and spoke whatever was on her brain. Lucas was still wet behind the ears, and she was constantly giving him grow-the-hell-up shit, albeit in a partner kind of way.
“Who said anything about women?” Lucas replied jokingly. “I hear there are plenty of guys who’d give their left nut to get Andera naked.”
Time for some razzing from Cisco.
“You offering?” Cisco cut in with a grin toward Lucas, having heard it all before. “Because if you are, I hate to disappoint you, but fraternization between officers is frowned upon.”
Mitzy chimed in, just as Cisco had expected. “And that’s the only reason you don’t want a gobble and swallow from my partner?” she rebutted, busting his balls.
“Nope. I also heard he uses his teeth.”
Mitzy cracked up, and Lucas shook his head, grumbling. “Get the hell gone, Cisco, before I make you catch the woman’s ass when she falls over attempting to walk a straight line.”
Cisco saluted, handed the driver’s papers to Lucas, then turned on his heel and hoofed it back to his bike. He didn’t need to be told twice to get away from the inebriated, blonde piranha, nor did he miss the ire in her face as he passed her car and rode off.
Oh, well. It sucked to be her this afternoon.
Ten minutes later he was pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. He liked that it still looked exactly as it had when he was growing up; white paint, black shutters, a welcoming, red front door. Adding to the place’s charm, this time of year the flower beds around the house were overflowing with perennials, and if he walked out back where fields stretched back for several acres, he’d see wildflowers in various stages of bloom. Maybe he’d even see a cornflower…
Nope. He wasn’t going to allow his head to go back to the lovely Miss Hilly’s eyes.
At least not yet.
The door opened and his mother beamed as he turned off his bike, swung his leg over the saddle, and removed his helmet. Once again, his fingers went to his hair, where he pulled his thick curls into some kind of order before approaching his mom.
“Hey, Ma,” he said with a grin.
“Hi, sweetie,” his mother replied. “I’ve got lunch already on the table.”
Cisco chuckled. “I didn’t ask for lunch.” Even though he assumed he’d get some.
“But I know you.” She rolled her eyes. “Even if you’ve just eaten, there’s no way you’ll turn down a bonus meal.”
He walked up and gave his mother a quick squeeze, and a kiss on top of her graying head. She still looked mighty fine for a woman in her fifties, her face unlined, her runner’s body still chewing up the pavement every other day. And as far as Cisco knew, she also continued climbing trees in her job as an arborist with the town’s Tree and Park Department.
“You know me too well, Ma,” Cisco smirked. “But I haven’t eaten any lunch today, and I’m starving. What’s on the menu?”
“Egg salad sandwiches, chips, and lemonade,” she told him.
“Nice.” Cisco knew there’d be one for her, one for Pops, and three for him. That would keep his stomach happy for a few hours.
His father was already seated at the table, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scrolled through his phone. “Do you know that the County Commissioners are thinking of rezoning part of the waterfront for condo development?” he asked with a frown.
“You know it’s happening everywhere, Gene.” His mother clicked her tongue. “The board will recommend it, the residents will fight it, then eventually the locals will be overruled and buildings will go up.”
It was the way of things. Developers with deep pockets could afford to pay off a lot of the right people to get what they wanted. It wasn’t exactly legal, but there wasn’t much the general populace, or even law enforcement could do to combat it.
“Now put your phone down so you don’t get heartburn while you eat,” his mother scolded, “and say hello to your son.”
His father did as his wife ordered, looking up with a smile. “Hi Cisco. It’s very interesting to see you on a Saturday before work.” He quirked an eyebrow, silently urging Cisco to explain.
Cisco sat down and grinned as he reached for a sandwich. His Pops knew him well.
Cisco took a bite, slowly chewed and swallowed, then gave his good news.
