Seth (16 page)

A large black Harley Davidson Motorcycle pulls off the
road and in front of a darkened house. A black leather clad figure gets off and
drapes his helmet over the throttle. He takes a black ski mask from his saddle
bags and slips it down over his head. He looks around for a moment, and then
satisfied that he is indeed alone he lopes off down the road for about a
hundred yards before cutting through an alley on the left. Silently he picks
his way through the noisy gravel road and over to the grassy edge of the fence.
He stops, then jumps up and catches himself at chest level on the edge of the
fence. He looks around for a couple seconds then swings his right leg up and
catches his heel on the edge of the fence. He takes a deep breath then uses his
powerful leg muscles to haul his body up to the top edge of the fence then
over. He drops silently to the soft grass below where he remains in a crouched
position and looks around while listening intently. So far so good. Satisfied
that he is still alone and unobserved the masked intruder approaches the back
of the house and to the corner where he touches the corner drain pipe. Then he
grabs it and heaves backwards with all his weight, but the pipe holds. Had this
been one of those new aluminum gutter pipes there’s no way it would have held
up against his weight. He checks around himself one last time before shinnying
up the pipe with surprising speed. In less than a minute he gains access to the
roof where he flattens himself against the shingles and waits till his
breathing slows down to normal.

Without moving the rest of his body he puts his left hand
in the gutter running along the edge of the roof and sweeps back and forth with
his fingers. After a quick but thorough search that comes up empty he moves
farther along the roof and repeats the process. He’s almost to the opposite end
of the roof before he finally encounters what he’s looking for; a small black
plastic, waterproof container. He holds the container to his ear and gives it a
shake. Satisfied that it hasn’t been emptied he thrusts it into his vest pocket
and belly crawls to the end of the roof and the drain pipe at the corner. He
shinnies down for about five feet then allows himself to drop quietly to the
grass below. After landing he crouches and looks around him. Satisfied he gets
up and turns to go.

“Looking for this?” A steely voice behind him says.

Seth turns slowly to face the man behind him. It’s
Sheriff’s Deputy Marc Long. In his left hand he holds a small cell phone.

“Then what’s in here?” Seth asks as he reaches for the
container in his vest.

“Not so fast!” Deputy Long commands as he points his
Glock 19 at Seth’s chest. “Take it out slowly.”

With great care not to get himself shot Seth retrieves the
plastic case and opens it up. A rock falls to the ground.

“Dammit!” He swears under his breath.

“You’re a day late and a phone short.” Marc replies. “Now
why don’t you drop the plastic box and remove your mask.”

Seth drops the plastic box as his mind races. He curses
himself silently for not bringing his own gun with him. Unarmed and with a gun
pointing at his chest he can do little else than comply.

“What were you going to do with the phone and the video
Seth?” Deputy Long asks.

“That was supposed to be my insurance policy.”

“But what were you going to do with it?” Marc insists.

“Nothing unless I had to. I’m just trying to protect my
club. That phone represents a get out of jail card for whoever your department
decides to pin the shooting on. I don’t need to use it unless you pursue a case
against my brothers or me.”

“Someone has to be held responsible Seth.”

“There were three other guys there that night from the
Disciples MC. You can blame them if you want, just not me or my brothers. Now
can I have my phone back?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, this phone is our
insurance policy as well. If someone were to see this, Deputy Foster would lose
his job; maybe worse and he’s not really a bad Deputy.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever agree on that one Sheriff. Your
man tried to shoot my brother in the back and if it hadn’t been for your
intervention he’d have probably killed my brother. I don’t see how that makes
your Deputy anything but a bad cop.”

“Nevertheless, I think I’m going to hang on to the phone
for now. I can’t let it fall into our department’s hands. It would be bad for
Deputy Foster and me; you understand?”

“And I’m going to try and get that back one day; you
understand?”

“Well at least we understand one another Seth. You take
good care of her, you hear? She’s a good one, she is.”

“She’s in good hands Deputy Long. Now if you don’t mind,
she’ll be waiting for me.”

Sheriff’s Deputy Long holsters his weapon and nods his
head. Seth takes off in the opposite direction. They’ll meet again one day and
when that day comes things may not be so cordial. Seth reaches his bike without
incident and heads back home to the woman who turned her back on the law for
the outlaw life. How often does that happen?

Thank you for reading!

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