The paperwork never seemed to end, and Isaac wondered how much more paperwork there was behind the scenes that Lt. Hayes hadn’t tasked him with while he was away. For the most part, Isaac was actually enjoying stepping into the role of lieutenant for a few days. It was like getting to try on an article of clothing before you buy it.
Assessing the fit.
Was this job one he could wear comfortably? Longterm?
Did he even want to?
He was thinking about the answers to those questions when the desk extension rang. Isaac picked it up and put on his professional voice.
“Detective Sgt. Ike Taylor.”
“This is Sheriff Harold Jenkins down in Washbo, Virginia. I believe that I have the two suspects you’re looking for in the BOLO you issued yesterday.”
A zing of excitement zipped down Isaac’s spine.
The thrill of catching his bad guys pounded in his chest.
“You have them in custody, Sheriff?”
“No, sir. But I know where I can lay my hands on ’em.” Sheriff Jenkins’ drawl was as thick and Southern as the Confederate flag. “They’re hiding out here in my town, and I’d like to know how you want to proceed.”
“And you’re certain it’s the two suspects named in my BOLO order?”
“Eric Bruce and Ronnie Coulter. I know who they are. They’re no strangers in my town, Detective Sergeant. I can take ’em into custody and hold ’em for transport if you want to come get ’em.”
“Yes, sir. I can get someone on the road within the hour.” Isaac began mentally clicking through the roster of detective teams and what cases they were each working on at the moment.
“Well, just a friendly piece of advice?” Jenkins offered.
“What’s that, sir?”
“You be sure to send white boys on this transport duty, you hear? Washbo doesn’t like outsiders much, if you get my meaning.”
Isaac knew exactly what the man was getting at, and although he was shocked to hear it, the advice did bring up a question that he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“If that’s the case, Sheriff… I can’t help but wonder why are you turning Bruce and Coulter in?”
Jenkins hesitated for half a beat. “Well, just between you and me?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I may or may not share those views. That’s nobody’s business, but mine. However, I absolutely will not harbor cop killers. Or even potential cop killers. How’s your man up there? Is he going to make it?”
Isaac shook his head. How was it possible to be both repulsed by and respectful of the same man?
“Yes, sir, he is. But the doctor called it a minor miracle.”
“That’s fine. I’m glad to hear it.”
Jenkins sounded sincere, and Isaac wondered if he’d feel the same if he knew that Pete was Puerto Rican. Or maybe the only color this man saw was blue. It was all such a mystery to Isaac.
“Well, your suspects will be waiting in my jail. It’s the only one in Washbo, so you can’t miss us.”
“Thank you so much, Sheriff. I do appreciate it.”
“Uh huh.”
The line went dead and Isaac hung up the phone. Then he called down to Patrol and requested a two man car for the overnight assignment. When that was done and the two patrolmen — one Asian, one Latino — were in the office, Isaac called detectives Jack Runyan and Lonnie Spencer to the office as well.
“What’s up, Sarge?” Runyan asked when they came in. He eyed the two patrolmen and Isaac could see the curiosity on all their faces.
“I’ve got an assignment for the four of you. I just got a call from a Sheriff Harold Jenkins in Washbo, Virginia. Our two hate crime co-conspirators are lying low in his town, and he’s willing to pick them up and hold them for transport. I need you to go get them.”
He looked each of them in the eyes and when he didn’t see any pushback he continued.
“It’s a sixteen hour drive round trip, and with these two men — who are considered armed and very dangerous — I wouldn’t make too many stops on the way back if I was you. Two cars means you can transport them separately, which is probably the safest option. Cuff them behind their backs for transport. That is an order, do not deviate from it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Spencer said.
“Sure thing, Sarge,” Runyan chimed in.
“Yes, Sergeant,” both patrolmen answered.
“One more thing.” Isaac glanced at each of them. The only white one of the bunch was Jack Runyan. “Sheriff Jenkins suggested that I send all white guys for this transport. That should tell you something about the town you’re going to. Huong and Suárez, I did not request you for this assignment, but I also did not specify that I wanted white guys. Runyan and Spencer, I chose you because I know that you’re not currently working on anything pressing. But if any of you would prefer not to be put in this situation, you can speak up now and I will find someone else. No questions asked, no marks against your record.”
Lonnie Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “I’m half white. Does that count?”
Isaac grinned. “I don’t think so, Spence.”
Lonnie smiled and shrugged again like it was no big deal.
Isaac met each man’s gaze. “Anyone?”
Huong and Suárez exchanged a look.
“We’re in, Sergeant,” Huong spoke for both of them. “Might be fun showing a town full of racists that we’re not going anywhere.”
Isaac held up a hand. “Now don’t go in there looking for a fight. I want you all to be professional and above board in your dealings on this trip.”
“Don’t worry, Sarge,” Runyan spoke up. “We all understand the assignment. We will conduct ourselves in a professional manner, and we’ll have each other’s backs the entire time.”
“Yeah, we’ve got this, sir,” Spencer said.
Huong and Suárez nodding their agreement.
“All right.” Isaac looked at his watch. “It’s coming up on shift change in an hour anyway, so I want you all to get out of here and get ready. I want you on the road in one hour. Runyan, you’re the point man on this mission. I want to know when you hit the road and I want you to check in with me once you get to Washbo. Then again when you get on the road to head back home.”
“You got it, Sarge.”
They all cleared out of the office and Isaac went back to his paperwork wishing he could be on this detail making the transport run himself. And that got him wondering if Lt. Hayes ever felt that way, wishing he could be on the street again instead of behind the desk.
“Hey, Ike?”
Isaac looked up and saw Lt. John Barton standing in the doorway.
“John. Come on in.”
He held up what looked like a flash drive as he walked toward the desk.
“I was able to enhance that grainy door cam footage we discussed this morning. It’s still pretty dark, but I think we got a good enough still of the perp coming out of the Buckley house with the little boy.” He put the drive on the desk along with a picture. “I printed this out for you.”
Isaac took the printout and studied it. Turns out the perp wasn’t wearing a ski mask, as they’d first thought. But he was a dark-skinned Black man and his features were now easily distinguishable.
“This is excellent work, John. Thank you so much.”
John’s smile was big. “Just doing my job. Helping you do yours, buddy.”
“Couldn’t pull it off without you.” Isaac smiled at him. Once saving his life had broken the ice between them, all John seemed to need to maintain their new friendship was a kind word of appreciation. Isaac liked that about him.
An hour later, Isaac was in the pit when Sasha Palmer and Lynn Driscoll strolled in to begin their shift.
“Just the detectives I was waiting on,” Isaac said as he met them at their desks.
“Hey, Sarge,” Lynn smiled at him.
“What you got for us, sir?” Sasha asked.
“IT was able to enhance that door cam footage.” He pointed to the flash drive he’d set on Sasha’s desk along with the still. “And this is a picture Barton printed out from the footage. This is our man. ID him and find his ass.”