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17
“Hello, my name is Jordan with the Columbia Police Department.” She stood slightly back from the sedan she had pulled over. She kept a small smile on her face as she glanced at the woman who had been driving the vehicle. There were two teenage girls in the car with her. “I clocked you at thirty-nine miles per hour. The speed limit on this road is twenty-five.”
“Okay,” the woman replied dryly. She eyed Jordan suspiciously.
Jordan tried to remain calm and pleasant. She knew the look. It was that of someone who didn’t trust the police. She’d seen it a million times.
“I’ll just need your license and insurance card, please,” Jordan said.
The woman already had the items in her hand and held them out of the window. Jordan reviewed the insurance card and it was up to date and didn’t expire until another couple of months.
She handed the card back to the woman. “I’ll be right back, ma’am.”
Jordan turned and walked back to her patrol car. She blew out a deep breath. She had thirty more minutes than she wasdone for the day. She slid into the car and turned her laptop toward her so she could run the woman’s license. Since the meeting, Jordan’s mind had been everywhere. Should she call Mac and invite him out for coffee and tell him then? Go out for a beer?
No, coffee would be better. There was no way they could have that type of conversation with alcohol in their system.
Coffee it was. She’d call him and invite him out early before work.
Jordan entered the woman’s information into the system.
Renee Davison.
It had been ten years since the woman had gotten a speeding ticket. There were no warrants for her arrest. She was basically clean as a whistle. Jordan didn’t have the heart to give her a ticket. Even though Renee had been side-eyeing her the whole time. Jordan exited her vehicle and walked back to the sedan.
“Here you go, ma’am,” Jordan said. She handed the license back to Renee. “No ticket today, Ms. Davison. Just remember to pay attention to the speed limit here.”
“Okay, thank you.” Renee offered her a genuine smile.
“Have a nice day.” Jordan tipped her head toward her before going back to her patrol car. She hopped back in and blew out a deep breath. They were in a residential area, and it was after school, so she was probably playing chauffeur for the kids. The sedan drove off, this time much slower then when Jordan had pulled her over.
Jordan threw her car in drive and headed in the same direction. The woman turned at the four-way stop. Jordan went straight, wanting to get on the next main road. She would drive around for the last part of her shift or even park somewhere and finish up her reports on the few tickets she’d handed out earlier. She drew up to a red light and coasted to a stop. She glancedat her watch for the fortieth time in the last hour, hoping it had magically jumped to quitting time.
The light went green, and she went ahead and made a left turn. She headed down the road that had a little traffic on it. Everyone must have noticed her because they were all suspiciously driving slowly. Jordan snorted. They all knew if she wasn’t around, they would be going much faster. But that was fine. As long as everyone was obeying the laws and driving safe.
Jordan relaxed and cruised down the street. She loved the solitude from patrolling on her own. If she had someone with her, then she’d have to talk with them all day. Or if she had a new recruit, she would have to be teaching and explaining crap. She just didn’t have the patience for that. She hoped Mac was right and that because they were SWAT, they wouldn’t have to train.
A horn blared somewhere behind her. Jordan glanced in her rearview mirror. A red SUV was racing down the road.
“What the hell?” she murmured. She slowed down to a stop at another red light. She rolled her eyes, ready to turn her blue and white lights on. An idiot just had to appear when it was time for her to clock out. She couldn’t ignore someone blatantly flying down the street. “Here we go.”
She flipped on the lights and hit the gas pedal. She eyed the intersection, and everyone had slowed to a halt. She trailed behind the SUV which picked up speed. He was not slowing down at all the display of lights.
I don’t have time for this shit.
She hit the sirens and drove faster. Son of a bitch was not heeding the sirens or lights. She grabbed her radio and buzzed into the station to report.
“This is Officer Knight in pursuit of a red SUV,” she began. She squinted but couldn’t see the license plate.
“What’s your location, Officer Knight?” the dispatcher replied automatically.
Jordan didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. The nasal female tone almost sounded robotic. Jordan gave her the current intersection they were coming toward. This son of a bitch was not slowing down at all. Jordan’s heart raced. She hated chasing suspects in an area where someone could get hurt, and high-speed chases almost always ended with someone being harmed, and most times it was not the suspect being chased.
Jordan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. The SUV blew through the intersection, and thankfully it was empty of other cars. All they would have needed was someone to not be paying attention to the road and not see an out-of-control vehicle plowing into them.
The truck slowed down for a moment and took the next right corner.
Where the hell were they going?
