Linda flipped the blue lights on as they came out into the main street and then punched the accelerator, chirping the tires and giving her a satisfying rush as the cruiser responded.
"I need to stop by the hotel, to pick up my shotgun," she told Logan.
He nodded, looking relaxed in the passenger seat. His seat belt secured, but loose. Inside the car with her, he felt even larger than he appeared in the auto shop, which was impressive already.What made his size unusual, however, came from the balance of proportions. People of his height, at least those she had met, or seen on TV, such as players in basketball games and the like, were never quite balanced between leg length, arms reach, the angles of their spines or the shifting of their weight as they walked. Some were more obvious than others, but all of them she could recall, moved as though their bodies were off center, and not quite in balance. Logan moved with perfect balance and precise proportions. The rhythms between the swing of his arms and the gait of his stride maintained impeccable harmony.
He wasn't hot or cute, but he was a man. The light, nearly blond mane of hair, with the same shade in his beard, gave him a Nordic look, and shit, he had to have some Nordic blood in those veins. The iceberg blue eyes felt like they enjoyed laughing, but didn't get enough of it lately.
And damn he was built. Holy shit!
She came through the front office of the hotel and into the apartment she shared with her grandmother. "Grandma? I got a call. I'll probably be out until dinner time. I'll call if it'll be later than that," she announced as she crossed the main room to the short hallway and into her bedroom to retrieve her shotgun. She had one in the truck of her car, or course, supplied by the Sheriff's department. But she preferred her own weapon, the Atchisson Assault Shotgun or AA12 military assault shotgun. It was a full-auto weapon, but the firing rate at 300 rounds per minute, make it possible to fire one round at a time with brief trigger pulls. Attached to this she had a 32-shell drum magazine. The best feature of this weapon was that it had zero recoil. Even at her size, she could fire at full speed, and the weapon wouldn't rise up on her, or hammer into her shoulder. Hell, she could even fire it with effective accuracy using only one hand.
Beth, her grandma, was standing in the kitchen when Linda came out of her room. "Who?" Beth asked.
"We're not sure it's another one yet gram," she said, moving her star from her belt to the flap of her uniform shirt.
Beth narrowed her eyes, "Who is it?"
Linda dropped her shoulders, and then tucked her business cut blouse in the back, "Andy, Andy Roslen."
Beth wilted a bit into the counter behind her, "I was his 3rd grade teacher. He was a good kid. Fiery as his red hair but good in his core."
Linda felt awkward, wanting to say something and having nothing to say. She put her sunglasses on, and then checked her gun. "I gotta go Gramm. They're waiting on me."
Beth weakly waved her on and Linda left, going back through the office, turning the door chime on as she did. Chirping the tires as she left the parking lot she snapped on the light array. There was little traffic so she used the siren only to get blind people out of her way.
One of those blind people was Hank, the owner of the diner.
"Asshole," she growled as she swerved around his BMW.
"Seems this isn't one of those friendly small towns people talk about," Logan observed.
"It is," she said. "But every place has a Hank, and that was him."
Logan's lips narrowed in thought, then he asked, "Same Hank uncle Rune wanted to deal with for you?"
She glanced at him, then admitted, "Yep. One and the same."
He nodded, "At least there aren't two of them. It's been my experience that frequently backing them down, and hard, saves a great deal of time and effort later."
"You mean, like beating the crap out of him?"
Logan shook his head with a deliberate slowness, "No. Putting yourself into the position of the bully, or abuse of power just complicates the issues. Gives them something to confuse the story with later. However, pulling him over and writing him up for obstruction, with all of your video cams running, arresting him for the same or assault if he's stupid enough to try that on you — or even pulling him over and verifying his insurance and registration — not so often anyone could bring harassment charges against you, but often enough to draw the line..." Logan finished with a shrug, letting the possibilities hang in the air. "I've found that informing your boss, and possibly the DA before beginning such a campaign often smooths the road as well."
He paused, and then said, "Yawn a lot too. Especially when they begin to mouth off and tell you who their friends are in high places."
Linda glanced at him, "Sounds like you've had quite a bit of experience with this kind of thing."
He looked out the passenger window, "Never more than once with the same person."
"Huh," she mused. "I would've guessed a man of your size wouldn't have much trouble with assholes and bullies."
"And a woman with your erotic appeal wouldn't have trouble getting men to do what she wanted, right?" he asked, looking back to her from the window.
Linda returned her attention to the road, and increased her speed, gripping the steering wheel a bit harder, but said nothing. What was there to say? Logan turned back to the window, and watched the landscape, returning to his own thoughts.
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