Chapter 94

word count 1278

Bowers and Johnson hit every light, making the older detective swear like a mad man while swerving at high speed through traffic trying to make up time.

"We should have taken a squad car," Hank mumbled. "We could've flown through all these lights, sirens blaring. Why did I listen to you?"

"How you gonna sneak up on anybody with sirens and lights?"

"Well, they do turn off, you know! You're an idiot! And I'm a bigger idiot for having listened to you."

"With all due respect, Detective Bower, I think it was a good idea to take an unmarked car." Mick Johnson popped a straw into his super-sized Coke and sat back to enjoy the trip.

"AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING! Why the hell would you want to stop at McDonald's when we are in hot pursuit? Are you insane?"

"Well, you can't expect a guy to catch criminals when he's thirsty, can you? I just wanted to be prepared. When I was a boy scout, they taught me that. Always be prepared..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! Gawd! You're an idiot! You're an idiot! You're an IDIOT!" Hank pounded the steering wheel, sending the car into a wobble before he got it back in control again. He hit the brake as soon as he saw a long line of traffic ahead.

"Oooooh NOOOO! A sobriety road block? Are you SHITTIN' ME? Gil's in danger, and I'm stopped at a sobriety check point. This cannot be happening!"

***

"Honestly, Simone! Eye-popping sex! Chicken paprikash coming up next, this evening couldn't get much better!" Gil Bettencourt leaned back in the chair with a contented sigh.

"Oh honey, you haven't even tasted it yet!" She said it in words that dripped like syrup across the table at him. "Wait here and I'll bring it all in. There's nothing like my chicken paprikash after hearty sex." She smiled and left the room.

In the kitchen, she stirred the pot one last time, sniffing the aromas in appreciation. "You're gonna love my special paprika, Gilly boy!" she murmured. She'd put in extra to hide the strychnine. Once he was dead, she planned to burn the house down and get out of town. But she did intend to savor watching him suffer. To start, she took a serving bowl of mashed potatoes, a fluffy white mountain of them, into Gil and then rushed back for the main course. She was so excited her heart was pounding double-time. Revenge is coming, Brenda! she murmured. Revenge is here at last!

Gil listened to her moving around in the kitchen. He still didn't have a clue what was up with her. They'd just had sex that sent him to another planet and back again. She seemed real enough and in love with him. Why did he have this uneasy feeling?

***
Along state route 7, Hank and Mick finally made their way to the front of the line.

"Have you been drinking tonight, sir?" The state trooper peered into the car, eyes wide and instincts alert.

"Detective Hank Bower, New Albany PD." He flashed his badge in the trooper's face.

"The question remains the same whether you're a cop or not. Have you been drinking tonight?"

"I don't have time for this! I'm on duty!" As excitable as he was, the words came out in a jumble. He needed to calm down or this trooper would think he really was drunk. But his temper would have none of it. He could feel his pulse racing and his patience flying south.

"Gil, calm down!" Mick broke in.  "He isn't usually like this," he said to the cop.

"You mean he isn't usually drunk." The cop loomed large in the window, bending close to get a good look at Hank.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Hank flushed with frustration, a point not missed by the trooper.

"Please step out of the car, sir!"

"You have got to be kidding! I'm tellin' ya I don't have time for this!" As he stepped out, his jacket flew open, revealing his holstered gun. The trooper stiffened and drew his own revolver in response.

"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!  GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

A startled Hank dropped to the street on his belly. He heard the cop murmur for backup into a microphone strapped on his shoulder. The trooper pinned him down with a knee on his back and cuffed both his hands and feet behind him. He carefully extricated the revolver from Hank's holster and emptied it, making the cartridges fall into his sizeable hand.

Hank twisted his head around to speak.  "I told you I was a cop. Of course, I carry a gun."

"Humph! Out here on the street a lot of people tell me a lot of things."

Hank felt absolutely despondent. He knew Gil was in danger, and now look at him, all tied up like hog trussed for the barbecue, maybe headed for jail. It would take all night to get this mess straightened out.

"Excuse me, Officer. I have someone who would like to talk to you." Mick said while handing the trooper his cell phone. He issued a subtle thumbs up to Hank. The cop eyed the phone and took it with reluctance. Holding it to his ear, he said, "Trooper Franks."

The officer listened, his face turning several shades of crimson, until finally speaking. "Yes, sir! I understand, SIR! I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

He hung up and reached down to uncuff Hank, helping him to his feet. "I'm so sorry, Detective Bower! I hope you won't make trouble over this. Here, let me help you into your car."

Hank blinked at him in surprise, but next remembering Gil, he shook it off and hurried back behind the wheel.

"You're free to go, sir! Have a good evening!" The trooper waved him off.

As he pulled away, Hank was still in shock. He looked to Mick. "Johnson, who the heck did you call?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he replied.

***

"I can't wait for you to taste this, sweetie!" Simone entered carrying a beautiful platter layered with aromatic onions, spices, tomatoes, and chicken.

"Oh m'gosh! Can one man be so lucky!" He pinched her butt as the lady leaned over the table.

Gawd, I'll be glad when this is over, Simone thought. I hate when he touches me. She smiled at Gil and pecked him on the cheek after she laid the plate on table. He got up and grabbed her in his arms.

"I don't know what I want more, chicken paprikash or you, baby!" He murmured the words with breath as steamy as the chicken plate.

Oh Gawd, not sex again! Simone thought. I thought we've already done it for the last time...EVER! She felt his hands sliding under her blouse, expertly undoing her bra while his tongue made little butterfly kisses travel down her neck. He slammed her down on the table, making the paprikash plate and and all the china rattle.

"I feel like taking you right here on the dining room table!" He tugged at her slacks trying to pull them down.

"Honey, don't you want to eat first?" She garbled the words because before she could finish he cupped her mouth with his, forcing his tongue in for a slobbery kiss. She tried to extricate herself, feeling like she might explode with rebellion. Her patience was wearing thin. She wanted him dead.

At this point she noticed the chicken dish teetering on the edge of table, having been knocked around by Gil's frisky antics. It threatened to fall off at any moment. She lunged for it hoping she could catch in time.