It always made my day to see because Tanny always stumbled over herself to leave when she arrived.
Maybe I’d get lucky today and that firefighter would make her way into the ER to bring in a patient.
Nothing would make me happier than to see Tanny brought down a couple of notches.
Fourteen
Currently not accepting feedback.
—Gentry’s secret thoughts
Gentry
I was still thinking about Sage’s reaction to that nurse when I pulled up behind a speeder a couple of days later.
Whatever progress we’d made after that day had been erased.
She was there, but she wasn’t there.
Any time I saw her at my place over the next forty-eight hours, she’d go out of her way not to get anywhere near me.
And when I went out to the yard to see if I could get Neo to come walk or run with me, she’d make an excuse and leave.
The driver that I thought would be pulling over in the nearest parking lot kept driving, and I wondered if I was in the world’s slowest police pursuit.
Eventually they pulled over in front of the Sonic, and I understood.
They’d parked in a stall and ordered, using their time wisely to order while they were being given a speeding ticket.
Earlier, I’d been intending to just let them know they were speeding, and not to camp out in the left lane. Then let them off with a warning.
But nothing aggravated me more than to have my chain jerked.
I wasn’t police material.
I’d been in the military for years, becoming the ultimate fighting force that the US Army had to offer, but I still couldn’t stand the general population.
I especially didn’t like when they wasted my time and didn’t respect me.
I parked behind the car then called the plate number in.
The dispatcher, an elderly woman in her mid-to late sixties, confirmed the plate numbers and went silent.
As I waited for her to get back to me, I studied the outside of the vehicle.
It was a black Toyota Tacoma with so much dirt on it that it was nearly obscuring a couple of numbers on the license plate.
As I studied the car, the window of the driver’s side rolled down, and the driver put the credit card into the machine to pay.
I studied the driver with a critical eye.
I expected a man to be driving, but the arm that reached out belonged to a woman.
A very small, very tattooed, very dry-skinned looking woman.
The skin was so tanned that it looked like the woman went to a tanning bed every single day for hours on end.
I’d bet my left nut that the woman was a pack-a-day smoker.
