Page 120 of Cautious Love

Luke dips his chin and unholsters his gun. “Let’s do this.”

“Coming around Buck!” I yell.

“Yup!” he calls.

There are two entrances on either side of the store, one for in and one for out. I hustle to the left side for out and Luke approaches the opposite.

“Approaching suspect from the West,” I radio in.

“Approaching from the East,” Luke says over the radio.

“Suspect pacing back and forth in front of the windows. Appears to have Lacey cornered in one of the checkout booths,” Buck says over the radio.

“Entering the building,” I mutter over radio.

I open the door and slide through, when the suspects back is to me. Slipping behind a display I see Nicole and her son, Ethan hiding behind a display. “Get down one of the aisles, go,” I tell them.

Nicole nods with tears in her eyes and hurries across the aisle, while I keep my eye on the man with the gun.

Moving up I slip up behind a checkout line. “In position,” I mutter.

“Copy, in position,” Luke says.

“Sheriff’s Department, put the gun down and your hands up!” I yell.

The man spins around in my direction with wild eyes. He mumbles something and I can’t make out what he said.

“Put the gun down!” I yell again.

“Never!” he yells.

I repeat myself and he starts pacing again.

“Sir, put the gun down, no one has to get hurt!” I yell.

Then he starts shooting. Bullets ricochet off of the ceiling, shattering the fluorescent lights and a couple windows. I grit my teeth and aim, shooting the man in the leg. He falls down and Luke stands up approaching the man from his side while I do on the other.

Luke kicks away the gun and radios for the ambulance, while I flip the man around and handcuff him.

I read his Miranda Rights, but I’m not entirely sure he understands a word.

His pupils are blown, and he doesn’t even seem to feel the pain.

After he’s cuffed, Buck runs in with our quick bag and we get pressure on the leg wound.

“Ambulance is ten out,” Luke says.

“Buck make sure everyone is okay, if they are then take some statements.”

“Copy,” Buck says.

I check the man’s pockets as best I can, but don’t find anything but a little plastic packet with a white dust in it, a couple crumpled up bills, and a half-eaten what looks like peanut butter sandwich in a bag.

“Sir, what’s your name?” I ask him.

He mumbles about sugar, and I sigh, realizing we’re not going to get anything out of him until he sobers up.

“Where is that ambulance?” I ask.