bulletin. Maybe he’s just being nosy—
doing his job. “That’s right.” I give him
my best smile. “We can just be on our way….”
Mind if I take a quick look inside?
He wants to search the Mustang.
The meth is in the lockbox, under
the front seat. It would take a warrant
to unlock that. Maybe he won’t bother.
Maybe he won’t even see it. Trey
must be thinking the same thing.
He looks over at me, gives a small
shrug. “Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
A Second Patrol Car
Joins the party as Cop
Number One leans inside
the Mustang, flashlight
at the ready. It takes
about two seconds for
him to find the lockbox,
extract it, place it on the seat.
Surprise! It isn’t locked.
And talk about surprised.
One of Sacramento’s finest
has just discovered a half
pound of 90 percent pure
crystal methamphetamine.
You should see the look
on his face. He’ll be the talk
of the locker room for days.
No surprise. We’re fucked.