Badge of Honor (3 page)

“All officers in the vicinity west of Horseshoe and Dillon Road set up roadblock.”

Oncoming traffic pulled to the shoulder, leaving Sarah an opening. She passed the remaining cars between her and the suspect, hitting a hundred miles an hour in seconds. The road turned from a four-lane to two, but traffic thinned considerably. “If I remember correctly, this road hooks left, then makes a quick right as it goes up the mountain toward the reservoir, correct?”

“Good memory.”

“Think the driver knows that?”

“Yes on the road, no on suspects knowing the layout. You're doing great.” Nick pressed one hand against the dash and spun the car-mounted laptop with the other so he could access the records on the suspects and the previous bank robbery.

“I'm going to…” Sarah started to say. As if their quarry realized they had no way out, they screeched to a halt, spun around and headed back toward the cruiser, black smoke billowing from the exhaust pipes.

“Aw, nuts!” she spat.

She hit the brakes and backed across the road, leaving her the option of going either direction. “Hang on!”

N
ick couldn't believe the way Sarah handled the car, the chase and—if he were honest with himself—him. As the suspects raced closer, she stared them down, one hand on the wheel, one on the gearshift.

Once they'd left the city limits, Nick had alerted the sheriff's office that the chase was moving into their jurisdiction. Now, as they straddled the road, he heard another officer call in their exact location. “I haven't played chicken before, but this isn't looking good,” Nick muttered.

“Show no fear,” she whispered. Still focused on their quarry, she spoke with authority. “That car is souped up to the max. They aren't going to wreck it.”

The suspects slowed almost to a stop as Roberts shimmied the cruiser forward, then back again when they attempted to get around it.

“They stole that vehicle,” Nick reminded her.

She didn't bat an eye. “They could have stolen any number of cars in the Omaha area that would have garnered a lot less attention than an orange collectable car in pristine condition. They aren't going to damage it.”

She said so with such confidence, he found it difficult to refute her reasoning. “And what makes you think that?”

She didn't answer.

Nick didn't wait. “So we can assume they're not from around here. That must be why they didn't want to go into the mountains on a two-lane road once you caught up to them.”

“Don't you think they meant to turn toward the interstate and head for Denver?” she asked. She backed the cruiser up when they eased to the left, forward again when they tried once more to go around them to the right. “They don't know the area, they don't want to wreck the vehicle. They're up a creek without a paddle.”

Nick jumped out of the cruiser and drew his gun. “Pop the trunk. I want to show them we mean business. Maybe they'll come to their senses.” He made his way to the rear, his handgun zeroed in on the orange car's radiator.

“Careful,” she said.

He lifted the trunk lid and pulled out both of their rifles. “Lord, knock some sense into these two before we have to use our weapons.” Backup had arrived, forming a line two deep behind the Chevelle. Sheriff's deputies came down off the mountain, forming a V-shaped blockade. The borrow ditches were ten feet deep, so the suspects weren't likely to take that route—in any car. They were blocked in totally, unless they used the vehicle as a ramming iron.

“Nick!”

He returned to the passenger's open door and handed Sarah a rifle. “Yeah?”

“The shift supervisor wants to talk to you.”

“My hands are a little full right now. Can you put him on speakerphone?”

“Sure, Rambo,” she teased.

Nick heard the phone beep as it switched to speaker mode. “Yeah?”

“These two are wanted in the murder of a security guard, injuring one of the bank tellers, and two officers in Nebraska. A car belonging to Ricky Turrow was found a block from where this car was stolen. Do what you have to, but we want to make sure it's the right guys. I've posted Turrow's mug shots from previous arrests on the system. Be careful, Matthews. The man has an ugly rap sheet.”

“No kidding,” Nick muttered. He leaned against the squad car, trying to figure out what Turrow and his partner were planning.

Sarah pulled up the photo on the laptop screen. “It's Turrow.”

Captain Thomas broke in to ask what was happening.

Nick raised his voice as he aimed his rifle. “For now, they're weighing their options—none of which are good. Any connection between the suspects and the owner of the car?”

“How'd you know?” the captain asked.

“It's Officer Roberts's belief that they have some attachment to it. They seem hesitant to take any risk of causing damage.”

He heard a chuckle on the other end. “Welcome back, Matthews. See you soon.” The cell phone went dead.

“Come out of the car, one at a time, and put your hands on your heads,” he heard his trainee's authoritative voice bellow from the bullhorn under the hood of the car. “Driver first, Mr. Turrow.”

Guns pointed at the car from every direction.

The orange Chevelle's engine revved and its tires squealed, sending smoke into the air again; obviously, the driver was racing the motor with his foot on the brake.

“You're not sitting in a very good position, Roberts,” Nick warned. “Get out here.”

“If they see a five-foot-one officer get out of the cruiser, they'll lose all fear, and you know it. Besides, someone needs to be ready in case they try to charge the barricade.”

“No, you don't. Tell them we're going to shoot if they don't give up. I'll take out the tires, then the radiator, then the gas tank, in that order.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Talk them out.”

She cleared her throat, then got back on the bullhorn, speaking into the mike. “Give up, before someone else gets hurt.”

The driver revved the engine again.

“Officers, prepare to open fire. On the three count, shoot out the tires!” she ordered over the mike.

The passenger waved his hand out the window. “Don't shoot the car! We give up!” He swore at his partner, obviously trying to convince him to surrender.

“Roberts, get out of the car,” Nick said, as he inched around the cruiser and opened her door. “Hurry, while they're distracted.” He kept his rifle aimed at the Chevelle's radiator. Someone was going to cry if he shot it, but it wouldn't be him. Roberts was his responsibility; he wasn't about to let her get hurt.

“Cut the engine and get out. I'm not calling them off until you're both out of the car and on the ground,” she bellowed as Nick tugged on her shirtsleeve.

They could hear yelling from inside the car. Thirty seconds later, the driver turned off the Chevelle and gave himself up, followed by the passenger. Sarah burst out of the car, keeping her gun on the latter, Turrow, as Nick went to cuff and search the driver.

One of the sheriff's deputies nodded to her. “I think this is your arrest, Officer.” He stood nearby as Sarah moved the suspect to the car to pat him down.

Nick wondered if he should turn his guy over to another deputy so he could help her.
Nope, she's just one of the guys; she's gotta do the job like all of us.
He glanced over, surprised that she didn't hesitate with any of her duties, even though the arrested party was a good foot taller than her.

“Get that cut on your forehead when you dived into the car?” she asked Turrow. “Take pictures,” she said, motioning for another officer to snap some photos before she cuffed the man. “You're lucky that's all that happened to you, with your friend's driving habits, not to mention your bad choices,” she added. “Keep your hands on the roof of the car.”

Instead of obeying, the suspect threw an elbow into her chest, and again Nick fought the urge to intervene. The sheriff's deputy was there immediately to assist as needed. He kicked the suspect's legs farther apart.

“Is getting charged for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer part of your game plan?” Nick bellowed. He tightened his grip on his own suspect.

“C'mon, Turrow, you're not going anywhere, so how about acting like a gentleman?” Sarah said, trying to sweet-talk the guy into cuffs.

The man spit.

Stoically, Sarah pushed him against the car, finishing her search, removing a knife and two guns from the cargo pocket of his pants in the process. “You have the right to remain silent….”

He fidgeted, making it difficult to get the steel bracelets on him.

“These cuffs are too tight.” The suspect jerked his arm from Sarah's grasp, then knocked her to the ground and started running.

N
ick shoved his prisoner into another officer's hands and headed toward Sarah.

She spun, kicking her suspect's legs out from under him. Then she jumped to her feet and put her knee between his shoulder blades. “Anything else you'd like to try?” she asked the guy laying with his face on the concrete. He had not only hers, but three other guns aimed at him.

Nick stopped on the other side of the prone figure, holding back a laugh. He waited as Sarah cuffed him, then helped her to pull the guy to his feet.

“Look what you did to me!” the bank robber said, blood dripping from his nose.

Sarah holstered her weapon and grabbed his arm. “I'd start exercising that right to remain silent if I were you.” She escorted him to the backseat of their patrol car. “If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and
will
be used against you in a court of law….” she said, then finished reading him his rights. She closed the door and looked at the prisoner sitting in a second cruiser. “Did you read your party his rights?” she asked Nick.

“Done. Unless you object, I'd like to send him ahead to the jail, put some space between these two so they can't collaborate on any details.”

Officer Roberts jotted notes on a small pad. “Fine. We shouldn't be too long here, should we?”

“A tow truck has already been called to deliver the Chevelle to the police lot for investigation,” Nick confirmed. “The officer who responded at the bank will meet us at the jail to help with questioning. The shift supervisor is contacting the Nebraska department to let them know we have their suspects.”

“So we need to finish writing up our reports before they can be extradited to Omaha on their warrants.”

“That's right. How's your report writing?” he asked.

“They're done differently than I'm used to, but I think I'm catching on.” She looked up and smiled.

After the scene was cleaned up, they transported the prisoner to the jail and waited while the guards searched him and offered first aid. Since both suspects lawyered up, Nick and Sarah had to wait for legal counsel to arrive before they could question them.

“Good job out there, Officer Roberts,” Nick said as they left the jail afterward.

“Thanks,” she said, wondering if he was always so formal. She wanted to tell him to call her Sarah, but since he was her field training officer, she opted against saying anything. “I think it went amazingly well, considering no innocent victims were hurt and not one vehicle suffered any damage. I'm sure you have a few suggestions of how I could have handled it better….”

“I said you did a good job,” Nick stated quietly.

She felt her heart beat a little faster when the corner of his mouth twitched. Sarah didn't dare let his compliment go to her head. Evaluation of a call was part of the job. She didn't need his approval. Or so she tried to convince herself.

A second later, he smiled. “Do you want to grab a soda on the way out, to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what? An arrest? Thanks, but I don't drink soda on duty.”

“Coffee? Water? The machines have it all. My treat.”

She finally gave in and turned down the hallway toward the lobby. “I need to call my sister real quick.

If you insist on buying, I'll take a water.”

She found a quiet corner and dialed her cell phone. “Hi, Beth. How're you doing?”

“Fine, until you called to remind me I shouldn't be,” her baby sister mumbled. “I don't want to talk now.”

Sarah paced the floor, knowing she'd feel much better if she was at home with her sister instead of counting on a bunch of uninformed friends to watch out for her. “Are your girlfriends there?”

“Yes. We're watching a movie and having pizza.”

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You didn't let some pizza joint deliver to the house, did you? Did you even tell your friends what happened? Did you tell Steve yet?”

“I don't want to. I want to forget it,” her sister said vehemently.

“That's not going to make it go away,” Sarah warned in a hushed tone.

The line went dead as Beth hung up.

She felt a cold chill as a shadow made the corner go dark. “You okay?”

Sarah spun around, realizing Nick had returned with her bottle of water, and one for himself. “Yeah, you ready to go?” She hoped he didn't push for more information, because tonight, she didn't think she could stay quiet. She didn't want to be here at all, but she knew her sister's stubbornness would be as annoying in person as it was from a distance.

“I'm ready, if you're sure you are,” he said skeptically. “Is your sister okay? You didn't sound very happy.”

Sarah couldn't talk. Not right now. She walked past the good-looking officer who had been through the mill with his own problems. “I'm not.”

“I don't mean to push…” he said under his breath. “But if you need time off, it's better to take it than try to carry on when you're distracted.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Did I seem distracted out there?”

He stepped back and crossed his arms in front of him, then dropped them to his sides, probably afraid he'd split the seams of his perfectly ironed shirt. “No.”

“You probably know how irritating sisters can be when they make poor decisions, right?”

He looked at her, puzzled. “How'd you know I have a sister?”

Sarah couldn't believe she'd opened her big mouth. For some crazy reason, she'd hoped he would remember her. “We went to high school together.” Suddenly she felt very awkward.

He didn't respond, but studied her. “She's not even close to our age. How'd…?”

“I saw her at basketball games.” Sarah had done enough interrogation in her career to know that his pause was due to discomfort. She was just rankled enough from her conversation with Beth to push the topic. “You don't remember me, do you? I was older…. A geek with no social life….”

“I presume you still are,” he said with an ornery smile. “Older, I mean.”

She pursed her mouth and looked up at him. “Thanks for reminding me, Sergeant Matthews.” She shrugged. “Forget I mentioned it. It's been a long time.”

His lips quirked slightly, forming an adorable smile that she remembered from all those years ago. “I confess, I didn't make the connection at first. I thought you looked familiar. In this line of work, it's hard to remember where I've met someone. You're Joel's twin sister. I still can't believe you two are twins, he's so much taller….” Nick's face turned a shade pinker with her silence. “Sorry….”

She shook her head. “Yeah, thanks again for the reminder.”

“He was a senior on the basketball team when I made varsity my sophomore year.”

Sarah nodded in confirmation and his embarrassment faded. “And you bumped him out of the last quarter of the state championship game.”

Nick shrugged, the blush returning with her statement. “Is the chip on his shoulder, or yours? That happened…” He paused thoughtfully “…fourteen years ago.”

Sarah laughed at the puzzled look on his face. “Oh, I think it bothered the rest of us a lot more than it ever did Joel. He was just happy that the team took the championship.”

“We all were,” Nick said as he opened the door to the parking yard. “For the record, you were a brainiac, not a geek. That's what everyone said, anyway.” They continued out to the squad car in silence. Sarah's mind sped right back to high school, and the days she'd spent wishing she could be like the other girls for a change. The ones who were tall and pretty and knew how to flirt with boys, well enough to have gotten a date to the prom. Nothing scared high school boys away faster than a “brainiac,” apparently.

So she'd reminded him. But was it a good thing that he remembered her, or bad?

She tore her mind from those days long ago and refocused on her sister. Sarah planned on making a slight detour by Beth's house, to make sure all was quiet.

“What's Joel doing now?”

Nick's question startled her. “Married with twin daughters, for starters. He teaches middle school in Denver.”

“Sounds fun. And where's your sister?” he asked as they reached the cruiser and went to their respective doors.

At home, she hoped. Safe and sound. “She's here in town.” What was Beth thinking, giving out her name and address the day after someone assaulted her? Didn't she realize how fortunate it was that a group of students had happened by exactly when they did? Sarah got into the car and turned the key.

“Unlock my door,” Nick called as he knocked on the passenger's window.

She hit the button, then offered a quick apology when he slid inside. “Well, that was a fun way to start the night, wasn't it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That ought to keep our blood pumping for a few hours, anyway.” He asked a few more questions about Joel, but after that, it wasn't long before he became the strong silent type once again.

She wanted to keep him talking, but this being their first night of a four-week assignment, she decided to let him make conversation when he was comfortable doing so. She'd pushed enough for now.

Nick had a rough road ahead, regaining his footing in the department after the charges that had been made against him. She could sympathize. While her reasons for leaving the FBI were nowhere as difficult to handle emotionally as what he had been through, she still couldn't have walked back into the same team and pretended nothing had happened. In fact, she felt guilty leaving because they wouldn't let her work undercover assignments. In time, she was sure she'd have the chance to commiserate with him. For now, they needed to let the wounds heal.

Throughout the evening, they had little more than traffic stops to keep them awake. Finally, with an hour left in their shift, they returned to the station to complete their reports.

Nick barely said a word as he worked at the desk across from hers. She looked up once to find him staring at her.

“How's it going?” he said immediately.

He looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. Sarah had the distinct feeling it wasn't reports that were on his mind. “Okay, I suppose. I'm not sure how to explain the cuts on Turrow's face.”

“Self-defense. He was trying to escape.”

She put her head in her hand. “There were four other officers between him and freedom. Would he really have run?”

“You bet. He was ready to take each officer out, and dumb enough to think he could get away with it.” Nick walked around the desks and looked at what she'd written. “It happened faster than that. I barely took two steps before you'd taken him down. It was a natural reaction to a violent prisoner resisting arrest. Erase that sentence about your reasoning through it.”

“But I did reason through it.”

“You have ten years experience, Sarah.” He said her name with an edge of discomfort. “It's instinct to defend yourself and the other officers. You're trained to react to the opposition. Don't doubt yourself. That can't be any different on the streets than it was in the Bureau. There were enough officers around to verify that he'd elbowed you twice.”

“You saw that?” Why had he been watching her, and not paying more attention to his own prisoner?

“You are my trainee. It's my responsibility to keep my eye on you,” he said with a straight face.

So much for her high school dreams of a hometown boy finally noticing her, she thought. Sarah highlighted the sentence and hit the delete button, wishing it were as easy to erase her own mistakes.