Final Justice (Badge of Honor 8)

“Chew those slowly and try not to breathe on anybody. I already gave some to your friend.”

“Thanks,” Matt said. “I owe you.”

“So what did this critter do?”

“For openers, first running a red light and then leaving the scene of an accident,” Matt said. “Give me thirty seconds and I can think of a lot more. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Grand Am is hot.”

“You sure you’re all right? You look like hell,” the Highway sergeant said.

There were four city vehicles on Knight’s Road: a Highway car, a patrol car, a sergeant’s car from the Eighth District, and a Fire Department Fire Rescue vehicle.

Two paramedics were loading the passengers of the Caravan into the Fire Rescue truck.

“I think the little boy’s got a broken arm,” the Eighth District sergeant said. “You’re Detective Lassiter?”

“She’s Lassiter. My name is Payne.”

“You’re on the job?”

No, you stupid fuck, I’m a concerned citizen who gets his rocks off chasing tall, young, white males through people’s backyards.

“Sergeant, Homicide,” Matt said.

“You want to go in with them? Or in your own car?”

“Go where?”

“You look pretty beat up, Sergeant,” the Eighth District sergeant said. “You better have a doctor look at your face.”

“I’m all right,” Matt said. “I scraped it, that’s all.”

“No, you’re not,” Detective Lassiter said. “Let the medics look at it.”

It was the paramedic’s professional judgment that while he had really done a job on his cheek, there wasn’t much that could be done for it except clean it up and get some antiseptic on it.

“I live right around the corner,” Detective Lassiter said. “And I’ve got alcohol and hydrogen peroxide.”

“That’ll do it,” the paramedic said.

Matt met Olivia’s eyes for a long moment.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Can we find out if the Grand Am is hot?” Matt asked.

“He’s running it now,” the Eighth District sergeant said, nodding toward a uniform in a patrol car.

Less than a minute later, th

e uniform got out of the car and announced that the Grand Am had been reported stolen.

“Can you take him and hold him on that?” Matt asked. “I’ll come by later and do the paper.”

The District sergeant shook his head, “no.”

“You know better than that, Sergeant. You’re the arresting officer and you need to make the statement to the detective at Northeast.”