Longview was about a thirty minute drive from Kilgore.
In the time I’d lived in the area, I’d only been to Longview a handful of times.
“They have a nice place down town called the Rotten Rooster,” I said teasingly.
She giggled. “That sounds perfect for my mood right now. Let’s do it.”
Shaking my head, I took the turn that led to my road when a car in front of me ran the stop sign, barreling down the road going at least thirty over the speed limit.
“Fuck,” I sighed and flipped on my lights. “Hold on to your shorts.”
Then I accelerated, flipping on the lights and siren, taking the same road the speeding car had. Then called it in.
“Dispatch, this is Unit 6. I’m on Stone Road going east towards 349. I have a 10-75,” I said into the radio that hung on the dash.
“10-4, Unit 6,” Dispatch answered.
I hung up the radio and placed both hands on the wheel, catching up to the car easily.
I looked down at my radar, noting that we were going eighty nine in a sixty.
I chanced a look over to Reese to see her smiling wide.
“You’re enjoying this,” I said, shaking my head.
She giggled. “Yes!”
She was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.
It was another two minutes of following the car before whomever was behind the wheel realized he was being pulled over.
As I angled myself behind him, I reached into the floor board and pulled the Kevlar vest up, slipping it on over my shoulder before strapping it down tight.
Reese watched me with wide eyes as I angled out of the car and approached the passenger side window.
The street we were on was two lanes with no shoulder, so it was safer for not only me, but the driver to approach on the passenger side.
As I made it to the window, I said, “License and Registration.”
The young girl looked scared shitless.
She was young. Maybe sixteen or seventeen.
As she reached into the glove compartment, my eyes stayed on her hands, watching for weapons.
A police officer’s job was tough.
A traffic stop could turn fatal for the officer in a matter of milliseconds.
That’s why cops always got a bad rap for shooting too quickly.
We’re out there putting our lives on the line.
I’ve had a gun pointed at me so many times I can’t count them all on my fingers. Which had made me jaded.
My life’s always going to be put first.
Always.
“I don’t have my license,” she whispered, weeping now.
I sighed. “How old are you?”
She sniffled. “Fifteen.”
I rubbed my forehead with my hand.
“Okay, get out of the car,” I ordered.
She started crying harder, but she got out, closing the door behind her.
“Why were you going so fast?” I asked.
“My sister called me ten minutes ago crying about needing a ride because her boyfriend dumped her while she was at a party with him. My parents were asleep, and I thought I could get there and back without them noticing,” she explained between hiccupping sobs.
I wanted to groan.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Macy. Macy Rubio,” she told me.
“Alright, I’ll get you seated in the back of the cruiser, and we’ll go get your sister. Then we’re going to take you home and wake your parents. I’ll need your keys so I can move your car,” I said.
She handed her keys over as I walked her to the back of my SUV, opening the door and helping her in the door.
I got in her car and moved it further off the road, turning on the blinkers before getting out.
I walked to my door and got in, giving Reese an apologetic smile that she returned.
“Where am I going?” I asked.
The girl had calmed down minutely, but she was still sniffling every few seconds.
“The next road down. Last house on the right,” she said.
The drive was silent, and I knew immediately which house it was because of the sheer amount of cars and people in front of the house.
“What’s your sister look like?” I asked.
Then I saw the booze and smoke billowing up from the numerous people on the front lawn, and sighed, picking up my radio.
“Dispatch, I have a 10-15 in progress. I’m gonna need backup. Multiple units,” I said, reading them off the address.
They’d run if I tried to go by myself, but at least if I had more than just me, it’d be slightly more contained.
Most would still get away, but quite a few would be caught. Then those caught would turn over more. Nobody wanted to go down alone.
“They all look underage,” Reese murmured, scanning the area.
My fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel. “Yep. That’s why I called it in. This isn’t good. A lot of these kids will drive home, and possibly kill someone in the process.”
I didn’t want to be stuck out here by myself when all those kids started running.
And they would.
She nodded. “There was a wreck not too long ago back home. A kid killed a high school senior who’d been set to graduate the next Friday. It was horrible.”
“I heard about it. It was a sophomore who hit him, right?” I asked, keeping my eye on the lawn.
“That’s my sister,” Macy whispered, pointing toward a young blonde who came out of the house on the arm of a jock.
I recognized him as a football player.
I’d been working the game at the college last Friday when he’d thrown the game winning pass.
“That her boyfriend?” I asked her.
Macy nodded. “Trent Dawes. He’s the quarterback for Kilgore College,” She confirmed my suspicion.
Starting my SUV, I moved it to where it was taking up as much of the road as I could, then got out.
“Trent Dawes?” I called.
The young football player looked up as he opened the door to his truck. Then, like I knew he would, yelled, “Cops!”
It wasn’t loud, per say, but only one person needed to hear it to repeat it. And repeat it they did.
Kids started running in all directions. Some for their cars. Others for the woods on the other side of the road.
They started scrambling like ants that had their mound disturbed.