Deadly Waters Pt. 08

He was sitting in the road leading into the small light industrial park, out of sight of the LoCoste Adhesives plant, when Chips' cruiser pulled to a stop behind him. Sean stepped out and Chips flipped on his beacons. "We're going to arrest Steve Locoste, calm and professional, just like the last time we were here," Sean said as he stopped beside Chips' cruiser.

"You got him on murder?" Chips asked.

"I've got him."

Chips lips thinned. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"I hope not, but be prepared."

"Does he know we're coming?"

"No."

Chips licked his lips and then squirmed deeper into his seat. "I've got your back."

Sean gave him a curt nod and returned to his car. They drove into the LoCoste Adhesives compound, their strobes dark. As Sean walked to the entrance, he clipped his badge to his belt.

"I'm sorry, Chief McGhee. You can't come in here. Mr. Locoste said you're not allowed on the property," the woman who doubled as the receptionist said. It was the same woman who had greeted them the last time they were there.

"I have a warrant for the arrest of Steven Locoste," Sean said, holding up the document so she could see it. "Where is he?"

She went pale. "Uh, yes sir. He's in his office. Do you want me to...?" she stammered, her voice soft and shaking.

"I know where it is. Chips, with me."

As they walked down the hall, they heard the shrill horn of a fire alarm. "Shit!" Sean barked as they began to run. They skidded around a corner in time to see Steve running past outside the full-length windows. Sean pushed Chips toward the slowly closing door, silently ordering him to give chase as he dashed back the other way. "Which way out the back?" Sean called as he reached the lobby area. "Which way?" he shouted again.

"That way!" the woman who greeted them yelled as she pointed to a door.

He turned, yanked open the door, and ran down a hall, crashing through another door just as a white Ford pickup raced backwards out of a parking space. Its tires squealed as it rocked to a stop before they howled again as it rocketed away. "Shit!" He turned back to the door, but it wouldn't open, requiring an electronic card to unlock. "Dammit! This way!" Sean cried as Chips pounded to a stop and then turned to follow him.

As the officers rounded the corner of the building on the run, they saw Steve's truck roaring past on the road. Steve had a hell of a head start, but maybe they could run him down. "Call it in!" Sean panted as they reached their cars. He threw himself into the driver's seat, yanked the car into reverse and matted the throttle the moment the engine started. Rear tires howling in protest, the car roared backwards out of the parking space before it squealed to a stop. He jammed it into drive and floored it again, flipping on his strobes and siren as the car bellowed, straining for speed. He raced down the drive, barely slowing before throwing the car around the corner and out onto the road, the car skidding on the edge of control. He saw Steve's truck swing around the corner at the end of the industrial park, the truck blowing thick black smoke as Steve gave it the beans.

Sean grabbed the mic. "Dispatch! Locoste turning north onto... whatever road the industrial park is on!"

"North onto Eighty-two. Units are responding," Terri said, her voice clipped, clear, and professional.

Sean could see Chips coming hard behind him as he braked, checked for traffic, and then wheeled his car onto Highway Eighty-two, the cruiser's tires howling in protest as he flung the car around the corner. On the highway, he buried the throttle and the car once again howled as it gave its all in pursuit. His cruiser had much greater acceleration than Steve's truck, and he was slowly reeling him in, when the truck's brake lights came on, the vehicle making a sudden right.

"Locoste turning right onto Waverly," Chips said over the radio.

Thank God for Chips, Sean thought. He didn't have time to read the street signs.

"Pursuit. Dispatch. Additional units are moving to intercept."

"Locoste turning left onto Highland. He's heading out of town," Chips said.

Sean watched as Locoste's truck didn't make the turn and skidded across the road and down into the ditch. The truck bellowed, black smoke pouring from the exhaust as it clawed its way out of the ditch, but it was a fatal mistake. By the time Steve was back on the road, Sean was directly behind him, Chips arriving behind Sean a moment later.

Sean picked up his mic. "Dispatch. McGhee. I'm on him."

"Dispatch. Chips. Have someone try to get ahead of him on Glennhaven and Pettijean."

"Fish acknowledges. Heading to Glennhaven," his voice came over the radio.

"Donner acknowledges. On my way to Pettijean," Will Donner added an instant later.

With Sean and Chips right on his bumper, Steve led them out of town, though at a slightly slower speed, while weaving back and forth to prevent Sean or Chips from getting in front of him. Apparently, Steve had given up on trying to outrun them, but Sean had no idea how they were going to stop the big Ford.

They could try the Precision Immobilization Technique--the PIT maneuver--that some police forces used, but he didn't want to try to spin Steve's truck until they had no other choice. He'd never been trained on how to properly execute the maneuver, and he suspected that Chips was in the same boat. The PIT maneuver could be dangerous if done improperly, and he didn't want to injure Steve if possible. They also didn't have the bull bars on the front of their cruisers to protect them, so they could easily disable their vehicles and allow Steve to escape.

"Fish on twenty. Have you passed?" Fish asked, letting the pursuing officers know that he had arrived on location.

"Coming up on you now, Fish," Chips said.

"Donner in position."

A moment later, Sean saw the strobes of Fish's cruiser blocking the road. At almost the same instant, Steve braked hard, causing Sean to nearly rear-end him. The backup lights came on and the Ford roared backwards, slamming into Sean's car. Sean floored the throttle and twisted the wheel hard to the right, the engine of his Dodge roaring as it pushed, the rear of Steve's truck whipping around as his car shoved past. It wasn't a textbook PIT maneuver, but it worked. Chips quickly accelerated up beside him, putting the nose of his car almost touching the front of Steve's truck as Fish did the same to the rear. The three officers bailed out of their vehicles, their weapons drawn.

"Hands where we can see them! Hands where we can see them!" Chips yelled as they approached in a crouch, their weapons pointed at the side glass.

Sean yanked the door open, one hand still on his pistol, reached in, and dragged Steve out of the truck and down onto the ground. "Down on the ground! Keep your hands where I can see them!" he bellowed. Fish and Chips moved in, their weapons still on Steve, as he lay on the ground, his arms out in front of him.

"I give up! Don't shoot!" Steve cried, his voice full of panic.

Sean quickly holstered his sidearm and jerked Steve's hands behind his back.

"I've got him!" Chips said, his Taser still pointed at Steve.

Fish holstered his pistol then took the cuffs from his belt and quickly secured Steve's hands. The moment the cuffs were on, Chips' weapon went to high ready, pointing at the sky, and then into his holster.

Sean rolled Steve over, and then helped him sit up. "Are you injured?" he asked, his manner curt from the annoyance of having to chase Steve down and the adrenaline still coursing through his system.

"No," Steve said, refusing to meet Sean's eyes.

"You're in a whole heap o' trouble, boy," Fish drawled, his accent as thick and slow as cold molasses. When Sean looked at him, Fish smiled. "Don't mind me. I've just always wanted to say that."

Sean snickered. "Help me get him up." With Fish on the opposite arm, Sean helped Steve to his feet. "Fish, take him in." As Fish loaded Steve into his cruiser, Sean looked at the bent truck and his own car. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. His car was making a wet spattering sound as green coolant pattered onto the pavement in a thin stream. He reached inside and switched the engine off.

"Chips, better get the fire department out here to clean this mess up, and a couple of wreckers."

"Damn, chief. Is that going to come out of your pay?" Chips asked, drawing out the first word, and then snickering. Before Sean could respond, Chips was talking into the mic clipped to his shoulder. "Fire and tow are on the way. You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you were just run over by an F350," Chips said, jerking his thumb at the truck as if the answer were obvious.

Sean shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Let's see if we can get these cars out of the road," he said as Donner approached in his own patrol car, his emergency beacons flashing.

While Chips moved the truck out of the middle of the road, Sean pulled his car forward and to the side, turned the engine off again, but left the strobes flashing. The battery was going to be dead in short order, but that was the least of the car's problems.

It took over an hour to get the car problem sorted out, and as they winched his car onto the rollback, Sean realized he had no idea what to do with his car or Steve's truck.

"Where to, chief?" the rollback driver asked as he began to strap down his car.

"City maintenance shop I guess. Take the truck to the police station."

"You got it."

"Can I catch a ride with the pickup?" Sean asked. He'd stayed with his car when Donner, and then Chips, left to respond to calls.

"Sure, no problem." The driver glanced over at the other truck. "He's about ready to go. Just tell him you need a ride to the station and to drop the truck there."

While the driver unloaded Steve's truck into the far corner of the parking lot, Sean walked in through the back entrance and down the hall to the two cells. The cells were small, eight by twelve, with concrete block walls, a stainless-steel bench to sit on, and a thick door with a window. The cells had no comforts, but they weren't intended for long term housing of a prisoner.

"You doing okay?" he asked through the grating in the door that allowed an officer to converse with a prisoner without having to shout.

Steve stood up and walked to the door, but he was unable to meet Sean's gaze. "Yeah. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, well, save it. Spangler still your attorney?"

Steve met Sean's gaze a moment, then looked down again. "Yeah."

"I'll give him a call and let him know you're here."

Steve looked up, his eyes haunted. "Thanks."

"You need anything? Anyone you want to call?"

"No," Steve replied, his gaze turning down again and his voice full of regret.

"Okay. Sit tight. I'll check back on you in an hour or so."

"Thanks."

Sean left Steve and walked down the hall to his office. He sat down at his desk and looked up Spangler's number. "Richard Spangler, attorney at law. May I help you?" the female voice, probably Jacquelyn, asked.

"This is Police Chief McGhee. Is Rich in?"

"I'm sorry, he's not in at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Tell him I have one of his clients in my jail, and he's in a lot of trouble. Have him call me or come by as soon as possible."

"Yes sir. I'll pass that along as soon as I hang up."

"Thank you."

He sat back and heaved a sigh. The shit was about to hit the fan now. He'd hold Steve here for a while, to see if Spangler could get him out, before he started the paperwork to transfer him to county. While waiting on Spangler, Sean began the arrest paperwork on Steve. As he worked, he realized he was going to need the dash-cam video from his car to show that Steve had backed into him. Then he realized he had no car to drive. He could have one of his officers take him home, and then he could drive his Jag for a few days, but it was now clear not having his own car wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Mayberry my ass," he muttered as he returned to his paperwork, and then smiled to himself. It seemed like he was saying that more and more.

"Is it true?" Rudy asked as he stepped into Sean's office.

It was almost six in the evening. Spangler had been by earlier in the day and was working to have Steve released on bond. Sean was hanging around the station to see if he could pull it off. "It's true."

Rudy swallowed hard. "Did he do it?" Rudy normally spoke in a booming voice, and the uncharacteristic meekness of his question made it clear he dreaded hearing the answer.

"Not for me to decide, but I'm guessing he's going to go away for a long time," Sean replied.

Rudy's lips thinned and he seemed to sag. "For dumping or murder?

"Both."

Rudy flopped into one of the guest chairs. "I still can't believe it. I've known Steve for at least fifty years. There's no other possible explanation?"

"Not really, no."

"Can I see him?"

Sean stood up and led Rudy back to the holding cells. He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back against the wall, to give them a bit of privacy, but stayed close so he could keep an eye on things. He didn't expect Rudy to try anything stupid, but Rudy wasn't Steve's lawyer and had no right to privacy.

"Did you do it?" Rudy asked.

"I'm innocent," Steve said, his eyes pleading. "This is all just a big misunderstanding."

"Then why did you run?"

"Yeah. That was a mistake. I panicked."

"What was there to panic over if you didn't do it?" Rudy demanded.

"They were coming to arrest me! I just panicked!" Steve said after a moment's pause. "What would you have done if they'd shown up at your office to arrest you?"

"I damn sure wouldn't have run! I stood up for you! I stuck my neck out for you! You led me to believe Sean was targeting you for no reason! You gave the city a black eye! You were the one who suggested Maggie resign! And it was you the whole time! How could you?"

"Rudy! I'm innocent! I swear! This is all just a big misunderstanding!"

Rudy looked at Sean, his eyes questioning, obviously desperately wanting to believe his friend. Sean slowly shook his head. Rudy seemed to wilt as he looked back to Steve. "No more, Steve. No more."

"Rudy! Wait! They didn't read me my rights!"

Rudy looked at Sean again. "We only have to read the Miranda warning if we intend to question him and use his responses in court. We haven't questioned him," Sean explained.

Rudy seemed to shrink a little bit more. He looked back to Steve as he backed away from the door. "I'm sorry, Steve. There's nothing I can do," he said, all the vibrancy gone from his voice. He turned his back on the cell, his face troubled, his head hanging low, and trudged around the corner.

"I'll be right there," Sean said as Rudy passed, and then stepped to the door. "You need anything?" he asked Steve.

"No. Have you heard from Spangler? He said he was going to get me out of here."

"Nothing yet. I'll give him another hour, but then I'm going to have to transfer you to county."

"No! Don't do that! Let me stay here!" Steve begged.

"Can't do that, Steve. This is just a holding cell while you're processed for transfer."

"Sean! Don't do that to me! I'll sign a waiver, whatever I need to do! Please!"

Sean shook his head. "Sorry. My hands are tied."

"Sean! Sean, wait!" Steve called as Sean stepped away and walked down the hall. Rudy was slumped in a guest chair when he arrived in his office. "You okay?" he asked as he stepped behind his desk and sat down.

"Yeah. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry I doubted you. You were right all along."

The defeat in Rudy's voice was complete. Sean almost felt sorry for him and decided to be gracious and not rub it in... much.

"From now on, why don't you let me handle the police work and you worry about running the city."

Rudy grimaced. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I had that one coming, didn't I? I still can't believe it."

"Believe it. The DA is going to have an open and shut case."

Rudy nodded, his head drooping a little more. "Okay."

"I do need a favor, though."

"What?"

"I need a car."

"Where's your car?"

"You didn't hear? Your buddy Steve tried to run over me. It's in the city motor pool. The front end is bent all to hell and its leaking coolant everywhere. Does the city have something they can loan me until I get my car back?"

Rudy gave his head a slight nod. "I can try find you something, or the city can reimburse you for mileage on your own car."

"That's the problem. I don't have my own car. Not one I want to drive every day anyway."

"Oh. Okay, I'll see who has an extra one."

"Thanks."

Rudy stood up. "I have to go. This is going to cause a huge shit-storm. A city councilman accused of murder? I need to get a statement ready for the press in case they show up, and they will. You're absolutely certain, and there's no possibility of mistake?"

"Absolutely certain."

"Murder and dumping?"

Sean nodded. "Yes."

Rudy shook his head. "Damn. The Craftsmen on Main is coming up the last Saturday in April, too."

"What's that?"

"Big crafts show. We close Main Street and craftsmen from all over the area come in and setup booths. Woodworkers, potters, leathercrafters, jewelry makers, people like that. It's put on by the Lion's Club. It's starting to turn into a big deal. Do you think this will be wrapped up by then?"

Sean struggled to not roll his eyes. It didn't appear Rudy would ever learn. "That's up to the DA, mayor. I'll turn the evidence over to him tomorrow."

Rudy grimaced again. "Damn."

"Your bail hearing is set for tomorrow. The sheriff's department should be here in a couple of hours to pick you up and take you to county. You need anything?" Sean asked. He'd just heard from Spangler. Rich wasn't going to be able to get Locoste bailed out tonight.

"I need to use the restroom," Steve said.

Sean unlocked and slid open a slot in the door. "Hands," he ordered.

"Is that necessary?"

"It is if you want to go to the bathroom."

Steve meekly slid his hands through the slot and Sean snapped on the cuffs.

"Step back." When Steve stepped away from the door, Sean opened it. "Let's go," he said with a jerk of his head. His hand on Steve's arm, Sean escorted the prisoner to the bathroom, waited while he relieved himself, and then escorted him back to the cell and reversed the procedure. "Someone will check on you in a couple of hours."

"Swell."

Sean managed not to grin until he turned away, and then walked back to his office to gather his stuff. It was long past his time to go home. "Hey, Michelle," he said as he stepped into the dispatcher's office. "County is sending someone to pick up Locoste. Make sure someone checks on him in a couple of hours if county hasn't picked him up before then."

"Will do."

"Can you have somebody give me a lift home?"

"Sure. Hang on. Available unit, 10-25 to the station." She paused, clearly listening, and then looked at Sean. "Paul is responding. He said ten minutes." She grinned. "Terri told me all about it. It sounded like some wild stuff. Things sure have gotten interesting since you got here. How bad is your car?"

"I haven't heard, but it's going to be at least a week, I'd guess."

"Are you going to be driving that fancy little car of yours that I've heard about?"

He flashed her a smile. "I don't know, maybe. It depends on if the mayor can scrape up another car for me. Which reminds me. Can you leave a note for the morning dispatcher to have a unit pick me up in the morning?"

"I'll log it in."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, but will you do me a favor?" she asked, her eyes dancing in merriment.