Anger flashed across his features. This time she heard the curse loud and clear, but he climbed out of the car.
The odor of alcohol grew much stronger now, the stench rolling across her nostrils in a noxious wave. He stumbled and she caught his arm. Sara stepped up and grabbed his other arm.
“What is this?” He stiffened. “You guys are wrong, wrong I tellyou.” His words were slurred. He attempted to pull away, but they both held on tight.
“I smell alcohol on your breath, sir. How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“You will regret this. It’s wrong, I tell you, wrong.” Like most drunks, he repeated himself. He tried to jerk away again, but his balance and coordination were almost nonexistent.
As she and Sara guided the drunk back toward her patrol car, Jason stepped up to help.
“We got him,” Lainie said. “Can you check out the person in the back seat?”
He nodded and returned to the Lincoln’s passenger side.
Lainie and Sara guided the driver to the hood of the black-and-white. Lainie had already made the determination that she had enough objective symptoms of driving under the influence to arrest him without the balance test.
“Do you have any weapons on you?” She began to pat him down.
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
Lainie felt a wallet in his left back pocket and then the butt of a gun in his right front pocket.
“Gun!” She grabbed his right wrist and twisted it behind his back while Sara did the same with his left arm.
“Ow! Stop it,” he cried as he resisted.
Recharged with adrenaline now, Lainie held on tight and quickly reached for her handcuffs. Once he was secure, she retrieved the gun. It was a small semiautomatic handgun, probably a .22. She handed the gun to Sara and then retrieved the wallet.
“Lainie.”
“What?” She turned to Jason.
He looked pale in the glare of the flashing red-and-yellow light bar. “You have to see this.”
“Okay. Let me get him in the car first.” She flipped open the wallet. The drunk’s name was Dallas Vine.
“Mr. Vine, you’re under arrest for driving under the influence. And for carrying a concealed weapon.”
He said nothing.
Lainie finished her pat down and found nothing else on the man. With the gun and the wallet on the hood of the car, Sara helped Lainie slide Vine into the back of the unit and strap him in. He was tight-lipped, maybe sobering up a bit. Once she closed the door, she turned to Jason. “Show me.”
They walked to the Lincoln’s rear passenger door, and Jason opened it.
A woman was sprawled across the back seat, half dressed.
“She’s dead.”
Lainie stared at Jason. “You checked her pulse?”
He nodded. “She’s cold, Lainie. Been dead awhile. Bullet hole in her head. You got more than a drunk driver.”
Had she arrested her first killer?
CHAPTER 1
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER
