“It is. Is someone chasing her?” I quickly scan the street from where she came from, but there’s no one in sight.
“No, it looks like she’s running toward something. Follow her,” Josh says.
I’m already doing so, but I step on the gas to keep pace with her. “Why is she running at this hour?” I ask, but he’s bracing himself against his seat belt, ready to spring out of the car if necessary.
We tail her around a corner, only to see another police car parked in front of a bar. Two cops are confronting a middle-aged man, and Carolina doesn’t slow down until she’s standing protectively in front of him. Her chest heaves, and she is panting hard, but her arms are outstretched in a stop motion.
It’s odd. The shortest woman I know always ends up in front of others, attempting to shield them.
“Which officers are they?” I ask, trying to make out the faces of the policemen.
“Taylor and Del Moro,” Josh answers with a grimace.
“Fuck, let’s go.”
We exit the car and approach the tense standoff. The guy who seems to be the bar’s owner stands nervously at the entrance, his eyes darting between our colleagues and Carolina.
“I’ve got him now. There’s no need to take him in. I promise to get him home safely,” Carolina says, her voice steady, still panting slightly.
“I don’t think so,” Taylor responds. “He’s caused a lot of trouble and is a risk to everyone around him. We need to take him in.”
Del Moro, meanwhile, smirks cruelly at Carolina.
“Look at him…” she motions over her shoulder, “… I’ll have to practically drag him home. He’s in no condition to hurt anyone but himself, and I promise to make sure he won’t do that. You’re done here. Thank you for your service.”
I suppress a smile at her sassy tone, but Taylor remains unfazed and reaches for his handcuffs.
“No.” Carolina’s eyes fill with panic as she turns to Del Moro. “Martin, please,” she says, clearly struggling with the fact she has to plead with him, but he merely grins.
“Rules are rules, Costa.”
And enough is enough.
I walk over and place a hand on Del Moro’s shoulder. “Indeed, my friend. And the rules do state that if there’s a reliable person to ensure an individual can sober up safely, we don’t need to take them in.”
He shakes my hand off. “He disturbed the peace in this bar. We have to arrest him for that.”
I look over to the bar owner. “For that, the owner would need to press charges. Are you pressing charges?”
He seems much more relaxed now, leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “Absolutely not.” He smiles smugly.
I turn back to Del Moro. “See, no need to bring out your fancy handcuffs. You can leave now, rookie.”
Del Moro shoots me a glare, then turns back to Carolina. “Trash, the whole fucking family,” he spits out before muttering to Taylor, “Let’s go.”
They climb into their car and drive off. I watch them until they’re out of sight, then turn back to the remaining group. During the confrontation, Josh moved closer to Carolina, who now regards me with a cold, apathetic gaze.
“You know, I’m always ready to accept your gratitude,” I joke, hoping to ease the tension.
She bites her cheek before managing a stiff, “Thanks.”
That definitely didn’t lighten the mood as I’d hoped.
“Are you okay?” Josh asks.
I look at her more closely. Her cheeks are pink, either from the cold or from running. Her hair is tousled, her ponytail barely hanging on, and an apron is tied under the leather jacket she’s left open.
Did she work this late again?
