Bob levelled the pistol at Buckwalter and glared at the man, his irritation rising by the second. “Keys. Now! Before I decide to shoot one of you rednecks out of sheer principle.”
“My… my knee,” Buckwalter whined. “Think you tore it. Can’t move.”
Bob nodded towards Zeke, who took the cue and retrieved the keys.
“Undo me. Try anything and I’ll shoot you in the gut. I’m sure, being the enthusiastic sportsmen you three clearly are, you’ll know what that could be like.”
The wary local uncuffed him.
“Drop the cuffs on the ground and step away,” Bob ordered.
Zeke did as he was told.
Buckwalter sniffed, wiping his nose with his forearm like a disconsolate child. “You realize the cameras by the main gate are going to have clear images of you. You ain’t going to last long out there after assaulting a police officer.”
“The Challenger,” Bob said bluntly.
Buckwalter looked away, irritated.
“Keys,” Bob commanded.
Buckwalter was sweating from the pain. “I ain’t giving you my dang car.”
“If I have to take them this could get real ugly,” Bob said.
“JUST… give him the keys, Dobie, dang!” Ricky commanded.
Buckwalter took the keys out of his trouser pocket and tossed them over.
Bob gestured to Buckwalter using the pistol. “Wrist restraints.”
“I don’t—”
“You use them when you arrest people in groups, instead of cuffs. That means you always have some on you. Three sets now, and you avoid me having to shoot all of you to slow you down.”
The officer’s eyes rolled up towards the Heavens. “You just added uttering threats to the list.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Bob left them seated on the concrete, back to back, their arms interlinked and secured with the steel-reinforced rubber wrist restraints.
He retrieved the burner phone from his bag and began to walk across the lot. The man he’d been speaking with trackside was watching with an incredulous expression.
“I’d leave them be,” Bob said. “You really don’t want to get involved.”
He walked over to the yellow Challenger. It was hardly low-profile but by the time the three idiots could get free and had an All-Points Bulletin out for it, he knew he’d have dumped it for another.
Stealing cars was never ideal.
Right now, it’s necessary.
He was about to open the door when the police cruiser pulled into the lot.
Bob pocketed the burner, which had begun to buzz once more. Whatever she was calling about, Dawn needed him immediately.
The cruiser ground to a halt, kicking up dust and gravel. For his age, Deputy Sheriff Parnell was quick, bailing out of the driver’s side the moment the car stopped rolling, his pistol drawn.
“Halt!’ he bellowed.
Bob turned his head slowly and peered at him, not hiding his irritation. “Is it going to help me at all if I point out your boy and his yokel friends were about to beat the shit out of me for no reason whatsoever?”
Parnell sighed, as if he wasn’t remotely surprised. “Well now… it might have done, had you not done whatever you did. He glanced to their right. “That’s them, sitting over in the corner at the other end there, I take it?”
“It is.”
Parnell approached him, the pistol raised and trained on him. “Gun on the ground, please.”
Bob tossed the Glock into the dirt.
“Hands on top of the car. Spread them fingers! Lean forward and spread your feet shoulder-width apart.”
Bob complied. After a moment, he saw Parnell’s booted foot poke between his sneakers, pushing his stance uncomfortably wide with a pair of short kicks to his heels.
Great. NOW I get the professional.
“So, you’re actually going to arrest me for this?” Bob asked incredulously. “For defending myself?”
Parnell was clearly exasperated. “Well now, son… I know Dobie well enough to figure you’re probably telling me true. But you can’t go assaulting officers of the law. There’s a process to this sort of thing what’s got to be followed, and you didn’t do that. So, while I will be having words with our officer, I must also place you under arrest on suspicion of assault causing bodily harm and resisting arrest.”
