Brian O'Grady - Hybrid

He walked to the corner, and the tracks turned left. Looking up the street, he saw that the parallel tracks were once again the only ones in the snow. “This is too easy,” he said to himself. He reached for his cell phone and called the detective on the scene. “Mayer? It’s Patton. I’m following this set of tire tracks, and they head east. Have someone who knows how to drive in this shit follow me, and tell them to stay away from the tracks.”

After a moment of silence on the other end, Mayer responded, “No problem, Chief.”

“I’m not the chief anymore,” he mumbled to himself. He was a cross between a baby-sitter and a tutor. The ringing of his cell phone brought him back to the moment. “Hello,” he said gruffly.

“Hey, Dad,” a voice said and Rodney’s mood immediately lifted.

“Hi sweetheart; how’s life in the big city?” His daughter Laura had from the day she was born the unique ability to make Rodney feel good about the world.

“Oh you know, exciting, glamorous, thrilling, same thing every day.”

“I realize what a heavy burden you bear just being you. How’s Glen, how’s my favorite grandchild?”

“Glen is wonderful, as always, and your favorite grandchild is right on schedule to appear May first. How’s life in the mountains?”

“Turning out to be a little more challenging than promised. Is that why you’re calling?” One of the networks had just done an investigative piece that compared the violence in Colorado Springs to Detroit.

“So what’s going on up there?”

“Is this my daughter asking or the Assistant to the Special Prosecutor?”

“Just me. Your high crimes and misdemeanors have not yet reached the ears of anyone important, yet.”

“To tell you the, Laura, I don’t have a clue as to what’s happening here. Whatever it is, it’s affecting the very fabric of society. Even in the bad old days, I never saw such an outbreak of wanton violence.” Rodney’s voice had become painfully serious.

“Drugs?” Laura asked.

“Not like any I’ve ever seen before. I suppose it could be a new designer drug, but the problem cuts across every social strata and age group. Besides, the health department says no. We’ve looked for contaminants in the air, water, food; you name it, and we’ve checked it out twice.”

“How are you holding up? You sound more tense than usual.”

“I’m all right; things here really aren’t set up to deal with a problem of this magnitude.” He always tried to stay positive with his daughter.

“You’re not in Baltimore anymore, Daddy.”

“I know that. Everyone looks to me for direction. I’m not used to that; the people I worked with back home were professionals — they had experience and instincts of their own. No one here can make a decision without first running it by me.” He was afraid that he was starting to pull her down and wanted to change the subject.

“Two comments,” Laura said in her characteristic pattern.

“Yes, counselor,” Rodney answered sarcastically.

“First, this is a grossly unfair comparison. The men and women. .”

“Woman,” he corrected her.

“You are such a sexist SOB. Now as I was saying, the people in your unit were seasoned veterans handpicked by you for those very characteristics. Secondly, and this is the most important point, are you letting people follow their instincts and make their own decisions, or are you, in true form, overwhelming everyone with your charming personality?”

“You’re asking me if I’m being an asshole?”

“I would never be so crass, but you do have an understanding of the question.” Laura liked teasing her father.

“I always told your mother we should never have encouraged you to talk. You were so much better when all we had to do to shut you up was to put a pacifier in your mouth.” Rodney loved being teased by his daughter. “It may not matter much longer because if I don’t figure out what’s happening here, and soon, I may just show up on your doorstep applying for the nanny position.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Actually it is. The mayor has been dropping some notso-subtle hints that he may have made a mistake hiring outside of the department.” So much for staying positive with his daughter. “Hey, you’re not going to believe what I’m doing at this very minute.”

“I’m guessing it’s not scuba diving.”

“No, but you’re surprisingly close. I am walking through the snow following a set of tire tracks left by a potential murder suspect.”

“My father the bloodhound; I am so proud,” she pretended to choke up with tears. “Daddy, I do have to go. I’ll call you this weekend.”

“All right, honey. If anything changes call me sooner.” He closed his phone and the usual wave of emptiness filled his heart. She was so far away and he missed her so much, but she had her own life now, and the days of holding her hand as he walked her to school were gone.

Yaeger and his partner came up behind Patton in a police cruiser; they drove slowly, careful not to obscure the tracks or run over their new boss. Patton glanced back and thought that they looked like a couple of teenage boys out for a joy ride in the old man’s car. “This is my backup,” he said to himself. He kept walking, choosing the cold over their obligatory nervous banter. Despite his size, he could move quickly if the need or desire arose, and this morning, he wanted to cover some ground. After thirty minutes, he had followed the tracks two and a half miles. They crossed two major streets, but as luck would have it, each time the tracks continued straight across the intersection. This is absolutely incredible , he told himself. Things like this just never happen.

After another ten minutes, the tracks turned into a parking lot shared by a Sheraton and two restaurants. A pickup truck was busy plowing away Patton’s tracks. He turned back to the car and noted that Yaeger and his partner had that resigned, that’s-the-end-of-the-road expression plastered across their faces. He ignored them, opened the driver’s side door, told Yaeger to get in the back, and then drove them around the large parking lot. Most of the cars were still covered in blankets of snow, but there were about thirty that had been cleared and obviously driven. Of the thirty, three were Tauruses; unfortunately, all three were brown. Patton had Yaeger get out and clear the snow from the three license plates, and then he ran the tags. As he waited for the computer to slowly work its way through the DMV files, he wished that Rucker had seen the plates. Even a partial would have been useful. The screen stopped flashing and displayed the details about the three cars. The first was owned by a fifty-two-yearold Asian woman, and the other two were Hertz and Alamo rental cars with Florida registrations. A hunch told Patton that the person they were looking for probably wasn’t the fifty-two-yearold Asian woman.

“Yaeger, stay with the car and position yourself so that you can watch both of those vehicles. Try to be as unobtrusive as possible. I’m starting to feel uneasy about this whole situation, so stay alert.” Patton had turned his bulk to stare directly at Yaeger, and the inexperienced officer nodded his understanding as earnestly as possible. Patton stifled a biting remark and turned to the other policeman. “What’s your name?”

“Johnson, sir.” His voice was very nearly a squeak, and his eyes widened in fear.

“It’s okay, Johnson, I’m not going to eat you. I had a detective for breakfast, so you’re good for another hour or so.” Patton wondered if Johnson was his first or last name and decided that he didn’t care. “You come with me. We’re going into that Sheraton to see if we can sweet talk someone into giving us the names of the drivers of those two cars.” He turned back to Yaeger. “Don’t be a hero. If you see someone approach those cars call me, or call for backup. Am I clear?”