Chapter 122

word count 1217

Gil bolted from the car and joined Hank on the other side of the door. In the meantime, cops scurried house to house along the street, cautioning residents to stay indoors. Others were setting up road blocks at each end of the block. Everything was in place.

Gil's heart raced. The hunt. It was what he loved most about this job. The adrenalin rush, his skin crawling like  tiny electric bolts shooting off. He was on an all-out alert, strengthened by the fact it was their buddy in there being held against his will. They could only hope they got there in time. He shot a glance to Hank, and the guy nodded. In that one subtle motion, they communicated the fact they were on the same page. Hard-core training made the next action robotic. Everyone from Hank and Gil down to the last cop knew what role to play. The others, with concern on their faces, had been informed it was their boss being held. They all knew Buzz. They all loved him.

Hank nodded to Gil and the game was on, with Hank blasting his shoulder against the door slamming it open with a huge thud.

"POLICE!" He called out. He and Gil pushed their way in, as they pointed their guns to cover anyone that might bolt out of nowhere.

They were met with dead silence. Hank lowered his pistol and looked, then nodded to Gil as he raised it again and made his way to the next room, the kitchen. The two, guns  drawn, peered in the doorway ready for action.

Nothing. Breakfast plates still lay on the table. To the side, a tray with soup bowls, still brimming, and sandwiches, lay untouched.

Hank and Gil both thought the same thing. Food for the prisoners. Upstairs.

The two bolted to the stairs. Gil signaled for back-up to join and the line of cops crept up the steps like sleek felines, making not a sound, definitely on the prowl.

When Hank and Gil reached the landing, with a wave of his hand Gil signaled for the others to wait on the stairs. He and Hank criss-crossed the door and with guns drawn and peered in.

Empty, except for a bed and dresser pushed askew and a couple kitchen chairs. Rolls of duct tape littered the floor. Gil lifted one with a pencil he pulled from his pocket.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked Hank.

"Yeah, he was here." Rubbing his finger on one of the chairs, then the other, he felt gluey residue. "In fact, I think Buzz may have been held here with someone else. Both these chairs were used."

"Oh my God! Mrs. Dunn!"

"Yeah," Hank said, shaking his head. "That poor old woman! You know, I can't imagine Mick and his mother holding people captive." Hank holstered his gun.

"Yeah, and what the fuck for, anyway!"

"Mick is a hapless fool, I don't see how he could pull this off."

"Well, maybe he had us all fooled. Like I said before, he had mysterious connections. The guy was an enigma, really."

***

The black hearse ran a red light and continued down the road toward the interstate. Mark hunched over the wheel while Mrs. Johnson sat in the passenger seat, biting her nails.

"Hurry, Mark! We've got a head start, but let's not get overconfident! I don't see them chasing us, so maybe they think there's something at the house and they're searching."

"Even so, it won't take them long to put out an APB. We've got to ditch this hearse."

"That was really lucky that we were all loaded up and only heading back to pick up the boxes of ammo we forgot. It made for a quick getaway without them really knowing we already had our 'guests’ in the hearse...Son, have I mentioned lately how proud I am of you."

"Thanks, ma! But compliment me all you want, I'm not letting you drive the hearse. Besides, like I said. We gotta ditch it."

"How are we gonna do that and hold onto our 'cargo?'"

"It's nothing a loaded gun and a little coercion can't fix!" Mark pulled his revolver out of his waist band and waved it at his mother. With only one hand on the wheel, the hearse swerved. Alarmed, he dropped the gun and it landed on his foot. Screeching in pain, next the foot slipped off the gas and slammed against the brake, skidding the hearse. The sudden stopping motion created tensions to send the hearse riding on two wheels before dropping back on four wheels again. Mark screamed. Mrs. Johnson screamed. In the bumping and commotion, the back doors of the hearse sprung wide open on Buzz and Mrs. Dunn who were hog-tied and gagged in the back. Buzz saw his opportunity and lost no time bumping his body up and down to propel himself toward the open doors. At the edge above the bumper, he curled up and buried his head in his lap for protection. He dropped off and landed on the road. Next, he deftly commando-rolled to the roadside, unharmed, although a little worse for wear. He huddled in the grass and watched the hearse continue on.

All the while Mrs. Dunn remained in the hearse watching Buzz and having fits. Her muffled grunts called attention to the back and Mrs. Johnson saw that Buzz was gone.

By the time Mark and Mother had secured the back doors again, they'd decided to cut their losses and just hold onto Mrs. Dunn for ransom. It was too dangerous to go back and look for Buzz.

***

At the jail, Trudy was upset. She'd heard rumors, rumors that Detective Buzz Miller, chief of homicide, was missing. It was all the talk in the rec room among the inmates. He and his department had put many of them behind bars to begin with. He wasn't popular, so she didn't dare show any interest in him around the other prisoners. But still, she was worried.

When the guard brought her dinner, she asked. She issued the question in her new demeanor, tactful, sincere, and in a quiet voice. Inside, she was ready to yell and scream like the old Trudy, but she held it in.

"Excuse me, guard! Is it true that Buzz Miller is missing? Is there any word on him?"

The lady in uniform looked back, a puzzled expression on her face. She gawked at Trudy, then checked her clipboard.

"Hmmph, 'Trudy Hunt'-- guess that's her!" she muttered. Then she shot Trudy a significant glance before speaking. This woman before her, hair combed straight and neat, sitting on her cot demurely, ankles crossed and hands folded on her lap--she was nothing like the woman she was used to seeing in this cell. But her roster said it was the same lady. She shrugged her shoulders and spoke.

"Yeah, he's been missing for days. No one knows what's happened to him."

The prisoner looked visibly shaken. "You know him or something?" the guard asked.

"In a manner of speaking...he's such a big, strong fellow, I can't imagine him in danger." Trudy didn't dare say how well she knew Buzz. But to be honest, she really felt for the guy.