CHAPTER 24 – An Unwelcome Guest

  Inside the parked van, Paul and Henry sat in tense silence. The glowing dashboard lights reflected faintly on their nervous faces as they kept an eye on the road ahead. Dunning’s presence, unexpected and imposing, had thrown a weighty wrench into their assumed safety. Paul’s knuckles were white as he fumbled with the pistol Charlie gave him earlier, his heart pounding hard enough that he swore it echoed in the small, enclosed van cabin. Outside, under the faint glow of the van’s hazard lights, Dunning leaned slightly against the open side of the driver’s window, his dark blue Chevy Impa parked a few feet behind him. He exuded quiet authority, though the small, knowing smirk on his lips sent off arm bells in Paul’s head. Henry, in the passenger seat, gripped the seatbelt tightly with one hand while subtly attempting to tuck his own pistol out of sight with the other. Dunning leaned casually into the window.

  "You boys look a little... out of your element."

  Paul forced on a polite smile, swallowing hard to keep his rising anxiety in check. He answered nervously.

  "Oh, uh, thanks, but we’re fine. Just ran into a little car trouble. Hazard lights and all. Uh... already called for a tow truck about thirty minutes ago. Shouldn’t be too long!"

  Dunning cocked an eyebrow, his sharp eyes scanning both men. His gaze lingered just a bit too long, setting off every arm in Paul’s brain. He remained pleasant, but still probing.

  "Car trouble, huh? What kind? Battery? Overheated engine?"

  Henry replied quickly, but nervously.

  "Uh, yeah! It’s the engine. Keeps stalling out when we try to crank it. Real hassle."

  Dunning nodded and smiled faintly.

  "Well, lucky for you, I’ve dealt with worse breakdowns. Mind if I stick around until the tow gets here? Couple of shady types around here—you’d hate to run into the wrong kind of trouble."

  Paul’s fingers tightened around the pistol buried in the side pocket of his seat as his fight-or-flight response teetered dangerously close to erupting. He forced his tone to remain even as dread curled in the pit of his stomach.

  "Oh, uh, that’s really kind of you, but we wouldn’t want to, uh, hold you up. A tow truck will be here soon enough."

  Henry nodded quickly in agreement, his movements just a little too stiff.

  "Yeah, it could be a while. You know how these companies are. They’ll drag their feet a bit."

  For a moment, Dunning tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. The faintest smile remained on his lips, but it didn’t reach his cold, assessing gaze. He spoke slowly.

  "That’s funny. Tow trucks tend to move a little faster around here, especially this time of night. How about I speed things up for you?"

  Before either could respond, Dunning reached into his jacket, and Henry’s mind went bnk with panic, certain he was reaching for a weapon. But what came out was a polished silver police shield. The gleam nearly blinded Paul as all the air left the van for a moment.

  "Sergeant Kyle Dunning, Catonsville P.D. Can’t let good citizens like you sit out here all alone at night; not safe. I’ll stick around until your tow shows up."

  Inside the van, the silence was deafening. Paul’s sweaty fingers twitched closer to the pistol at his side, while Henry let out a nervous ugh that sounded far more fake than he intended. Everyone listening over the comm were holding their breath. Paul forced a smile, trying not to stammer.

  "Wow, uh...thank you, Sarge. That’s really, um...considerate of you. Gd someone’s looking out for us. But this is Washington. Isn't this outside your jurisdiction?"

  "I live in the metro area," Dunning replied.

  "Plus, I have friends in the Metro P.D."

  Paul stole a quick gnce at Henry, his partner in this nightmare, who was hurriedly trying to tuck their pistols further down into the cracks of the seat, as quietly as possible. The metal clink made Paul’s stomach drop, and for half a beat, Dunning’s eyes flicked to Henry.

  "Something wrong there, son?" Dunning asked Henry.

  "You look awful twitchy."

  Henry started ughing nervously.

  "Nope! Just, uh...my leg’s cramping, you know? Tight spaces, sitting in one spot for too long. It gets to you."

  Over the comm system, Ruby’s voice broke through, her usual humor noticeably absent, repced with thinly veiled panic. She spoke in a quiet whisper.

  "Okay, this is bad. Really bad. Someone tell me there’s a pn before the pig busts us."

  Candy said quietly, her voice dripped in tension.

  "If he figures out what’s going on, we’re toast."

  Chris took control of the conversation.

  "Stay quiet! Uncle Peter’s on his way."

  Peter cut in over the comm.

  "Ruby. Chris. Keep monitoring. I’m 90 seconds away."

  Meanwhile, back in the van, Paul struggled to maintain his composure as Dunning leaned even closer, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of their expressions, body nguage, and even the dimly lit interior of the van. He said with a smirk.

  "You know what’s funny boys? You two don’t seem like the ‘car trouble’ type. You’ve got hazard lights fshing, hoods popped...but the two of you don’t have so much as a wrench out. Kind of strange if you ask me."

  Henry scrambled for a response, terrified that the game was up. He began stammering.

  "Well, uh, we’re not exactly...car guys. That’s why we called the tow!"

  "Yeah," Paul added.

  "Uh, we’re just, you know...keeping safe in the car. Didn’t want to make anything worse."

  Dunning’s eyes lingered on them, his smile never faltering. He leaned just a little closer through the window, his presence suddenly suffocating.

  "Guess that makes sense."

  He lowered his voice, his tone shifting to something darker.

  "Or maybe, you’re not waiting for a tow at all."

  The sound of soft, heavy footsteps crunching through gravel fshed a beacon of relief in Henry’s mind. Emerging from the darkness, Peter moved like a predatory shadow, silent and deliberate. With calcuted timing, Peter came into Dunning’s periphery; not too close, but close enough to sidestep suspicion.

  "Evening, Officer. My boys here giving you trouble?"

  Dunning turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he looked up at Peter. The tension was palpable, the air seeming to hum with unspoken threats.

  "No trouble yet," Dunning replied.

  "Just making sure everything’s okay. You their dad?"

  Peter pretended to chuckle lightly.

  "Just a friend. We’re all squared up though."

  Suspicion creeped into Dunning’s voice. He straightened to full height, one hand resting on his radio as he reached for his weapon holster as he spoke.

  "Funny, it doesn’t add up for me. But hey! Maybe you can help me figure it out."

  Peter quickly acted. In a fsh of fluid efficiency, he grabbed Dunning’s wrist, twisted it just enough to force a startled grunt, and slipped his other hand to the pistol holstered at his hip. Within seconds, Dunning’s weapon was in Peter's hands, and Dunning was shoved against the side of the van. Peter replied firmly.

  "You’ve got a problem. But it’s not these boys."

  Henry and Paul exchanged wide-eyed looks. Paul felt a sense of relief.

  “Man, I have never been more happy to see you.”

  Ruby’s astonished voice lit up over the comm system.

  "Okay, I’m calling it! Uncle P’s officially terrifying AND awesome!"

  Using a combination of zip-ties and sheer control, Peter subdued Dunning and hauled him into the back of the van. Peter turned to Paul.

  "Drive the other van back. Stay careful."

  Paul, shaking but determined, took the keys from Peter, his eyes ser focused. The tension hung heavy in the night as the vans peeled away, leaving behind nothing but fshing hazard lights and the faint crackle of gravel.