"Why don't you put that horse pistol
away, and we'll go talk to her?"
"Jesus," Britton said, embarrassed that he hadn't already lowered the hammer and put the Smith & Wesson in its holster.
The captain issued orders to first check to see if anyone might have been injured in the area, and then to protect the scene, and finally gestured to Britton to precede him into his house.
Sandra had left the cellar and now was in the living room, sprawled on the couch. There was a squat glass dark with whiskey on the coffee table, and she had one just like it in her hand.
"You remember Captain Donnelly, honey?"
"Yeah, sure. Long time. Merry Christmas."
"You all right, Sandra?" Donnelly said, the genuine concern of an old friend clear in his tone.
"As well--after being tackled by my husband, then having those AALs shoot up our house and our new car--as can be expected under the circumstances."
"AAL is politically incorrect, Sandra," Captain Donnelly said, smiling.
"I can say it," she said, pointing to her skin. "I can say African-American Lunatics. I could even say worse, but I'm a lady and I won't."
"Take it easy, honey," Britton said.
"I thought Jack was finished with them," Sandra said. "Naive little ol' me."
Britton leaned over and picked up the whiskey glass.
"Can I offer you one of these?" he said to Donnelly.
"Of course not. I'm a captain, a district commander, and I'm on duty. But on the other hand, it's Christmas Eve, isn't it?"
"I'll get it," Sandra said, rising gracefully from the couch. "I moved the bottle to the kitchen knowing I would probably have more than one."
Donnelly looked at Britton.
"Tough little lady," he said admiringly.
"Yeah. Those bastards! I understand them wanting to whack me, but . . ."
"Jack, let's get a few things out of the way."
"Like what?"
"I heard you left the department, but that's about all I know. You're still in law enforcement?"
"I guess you could say that," Britton said, and took a small leather wallet from his suit jacket and handed it to Donnelly, who opened it, examined it, and handed it back.
"Secret Service, eh?"
"Now, if anyone asks, you can say, 'The victim identified himself to me by producing the credentials of a Secret Service special agent . . .' "
" '... and authorized to carry firearms,'" Donnelly finished the quote. "You guys carry Smith & Wesson .357s?"
"I do."
"What have they got you doing, Jack?"
"I'm assigned to Homeland Security."