The Homecoming
Page 23

“Did you call Pritkus? He’s got the town tonight.”
“He’s on his way but he’s maybe fifteen minutes away.”
“Okay. Clear the bar area, then get behind the bar.” He turned to Iris. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked into the bar and approached the two surly men, noting they were both big. He had his backup gun, a pistol, on his ankle, something he never expected to have to use, but it was there. If this had happened anywhere else, he’d wait for local law enforcement. But this was his town. The people here were his friends and he didn’t want Cliff to lose any glassware.
“Gentlemen,” he said calmly. He showed his badge. “I’m Deputy Sileski and I need you to let go of the lady and step apart. Right now. Ma’am, I’d like you to go over to that table by the window, away from these men, and have a seat.”
“She’s my wife! She’s not going anywhere except home with me!” one of the men said.
“She’s separated!” the other yelled. “We’re just having dinner here!”
“Please, Carl, stop this,” the woman said. “Paul, let go.”
“Gentlemen, let go of the lady. Now!”
Carl was the one to make the first mistake. “We don’t need no goddamn Andy of Mayberry in our business!” he shouted. And then he took a swing at Seth.
Seth grabbed the man’s wrist and, in the blink of an eye, twisted Carl’s arm behind his back and pinned him to the bar. Seth met the eye of the other man, Paul. “Sir, I want you to sit at that end of the bar,” he said, giving his head a tilt. “I don’t want you anywhere near the lady. Ma’am, go where I told you to go. Now.”
“But we are separated!” she said. “We haven’t done anything wrong! And my husband is drunk!”
“This will get sorted out when Deputy Pritkus arrives. For now, everyone go to your corners.”
“We’ve been separated for two days—because I caught the whore doing that bastard,” the husband said from his compromised position against the bar.
Seth’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Do not move one muscle,” he said to his captive. He glared at the other man, then the woman. “Did I speak a foreign language?” he asked. They separated.
Seth reached into his pocket with one hand, still holding Carl’s arm with the other. “Sileski.”
“I’m on my way. What’ve you got?” Pritkus asked.
“Twelve-twenty-nine in the bar, two males and one female,” he said, calling it a domestic disturbance. “Light it up, will you? This is pretty inconvenient.” Then he slid his phone back into his pocket. He leaned over the captive Carl. “You and I, we’re going to walk outside and wait for the deputy on duty.”
“No way,” Carl said. “I’m taking my wife home and you can go f**k yourself!” He whirled around and hit Seth in the mouth with an elbow. In one fluid move, Seth shoved him back on the bar, facedown, pulling both hands behind him by the wrists. Seth gave a sharp jerk upward, causing Carl to yelp.
The place became very quiet. Seth reached up to his mouth with one finger and came away with blood. “And now you’re going to jail.” Holding both wrists firmly in one tight grasp, he reached down and pulled his gun out of the ankle holster and slid it into his belt at the small of his back. He straightened and looked at the man who was called Paul. “Do you want to go to jail, too?”
Paul, whose eyes had become very large, shook his head slowly.
“Good decision. I want you to put your hands on the top of your head and precede me out of the restaurant. Give me six feet so I can see every move you make and if you run, I’m just going to shoot you. I am not getting hurt in this ridiculous nonsense. Do we understand each other?”
The man stood and put his hands on the top of his head. “Like this?” he asked politely.
“That’s very good, Paul. After you.”
Seth straightened his suspect with a jerk on the back of his collar and by pushing up on his arms at the same time. “Behave yourself, Carl, or you’re history.”
Paul, very creative, used his butt to open the exit door. Seth used Carl. Once outside in the cold October night Seth directed Paul to his truck. “I want you to put both your hands on the hood and spread your legs.”
“Am I in trouble?” Paul asked.
“Yes, but you’re not in bad trouble. Yet. Be very careful.” Then he opened the passenger door and reached into the storage box that separated the bucket seats and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He applied one side to Carl’s wrist and pulled him to the back of the truck, where he attached the other side to the trailer hitch on his hefty Tacoma. During this process, he watched Paul as best he could. Paul didn’t seem to be moving.
Seth left Carl and checked on Paul. “I’m going to pat you down, sir,” he said. Before doing so, he took a moment to dab his bleeding lip with his sleeve. All he’d wanted was to keep an eye on Troy and have dinner with Iris. This was pissing him off. “Anything sharp or dangerous in your pockets or on your person?”
“No!”
“Good,” he said. “Spread ’em a little more.” He ran his hands down Paul’s sides, his hips, his legs to his ankles. Then, when he stood he saw the woman standing in the doorway of Cliff’s. “You!” he shouted, pointing at her. “You want more trouble? Get back to your assigned seat before I put you in cuffs!” She disappeared.
He turned his attention back to Paul. “Fortunately for you, I don’t have a second pair of cuffs. But you ruined my dinner and I’m pissed. Next time you want to date out of town so the husband doesn’t see you, stay out of my town. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Paul said contritely.
“Are you going to stay right here, hands on the hood and hope you don’t go to jail or are you going to mess it up?”
“I’m staying,” he said.
“Good decision. I hate shooting people. So much paperwork.”
Seth went to Carl, who was bent slightly as he was attached to the trailer hitch. “So, Carl. Do you have weapons? Sharp objects? Anything that might stick me or hurt me and make me madder?”
“No,” he growled.
“Very nice. Put your free hand on the truck, spread your legs.” Then he proceeded to pat him down. When he righted himself he stared Carl hard in the eyes. “You are a pain in the ass, Carl. And you’re going to jail. You really pissed me off.”