“You two are on leave. I don’t want to see your asses around here. Go home.”
I filled him in on the Pearson case and showed him the still frame.
“So, you’re telling me you shot the wrong guy last night?”
“No, I shot a guy who shot an officer, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he said with seething eyes.
I tapped the image of Sean assaulting Riley. “This guy is still out on the street.”
“Sit this one out.”
“Sit this one out? I’m sorry. What does that mean? My English is not so good.”
He glared at me. “Sit this one out!”
“I’m still not getting it. Explain it to me like I’m five.”
Daniels groaned and shook his head. “The two of you combined aren’t five. More like two.”
We just gave him dumb looks.
“So, what you’re saying is we can return to duty, pending final review.”
Daniels just walked off.
I looked at Jack. “Was that a yes or a no?”
JD shrugged.
A couple of hours later, the IT guys recovered the same image, this time through legitimate means. I took it to the sheriff, alongwith the images of Sean I had pulled from social media. “That’s the same guy. No doubt about it. You can’t take this case away from us now.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Try not to kill anyone today.”
We smiled, and I gave him a mock salute.
With the image in hand, I filled out an application for a warrant, and Judge Echols signed off on it.
It didn't take long to have a tac team at the Pearson residence. I banged on the door.
“Coconut County!” I shouted. “We have a warrant!”
I nodded to Erickson, and he hammered the door with a ram. The jamb splintered, glass shattered, and the door flung wide.
We flooded into the foyer and cleared the area. Jack was the last one in. He’d ditched the sling, but his arm wasn’t good for much at the moment.
Julie Pearson greeted us with an angry scowl. I was the last person she wanted to see.
“We have a warrant!” I shouted again.
I secured her, then followed the deputies as they ascended the staircase. It was early enough for Sean to still be in bed. The kid was a night owl. Actually, he wasn't much of a kid. At 18, he was a cold-blooded killer.
Jack stayed with Julie.
Sean’s room was a pigsty. Dirty clothes littered the floor. Posters of rock bands lined the walls. A tray of weed and a bong restedon the nightstand by the bed. Richard Pearson didn't do a good job of disciplining his kid.
Sean peeled open his sleepy eyes as the barrels of twitchy assault rifles closed in on him. "What the fuck, man!?"
