Protecting What's Mine(50)

“Is there any other way?” Ty wondered.

Linc microwaved while Ty ran through Mack’s statement she’d given in the emergency department while the grumpy Dr. Ling had examined her X-rays.

“So we’ve got Mick Kersh for a couple of charges relating to the crash, but he wasn’t driving, and without witnesses inside the car, a decent public defender can poke holes in his high-as-a-kite crime scene confession.”

“That’s not enough. That girl isn’t waking up anytime soon. And if she does, she’ll never be back to what she was before she got in that car with him,” Mack said.

“That’s why I’m here. I know that girl and her family. And this isn’t enough for them either. If you’re comfortable pressing charges, we’ve got a Class X felony for assault with injury against a law enforcement officer.”

“Absolutely,” Mack said without hesitation. Linc put a bowl of pie and ice cream garnished with a cookie in front of her.

“Before you commit, the boy’s got family. Family who don’t necessarily care about what really happened or what crimes were committed. His dad, Jethro, has been popped a time or two for drunk and disorderly. A few domestic calls that never went anywhere. His uncle Abner did a nickel for possession and distribution. Both insisted to anyone who’d listen that they were set up.”

“I’m not afraid of retaliation,” she said.

Though Linc noted she put her spoon down when she said it.

“You should be on the lookout too, chief,” Ty said, shifting his attention to Linc. “They’re making noises about you assaulting their boy.”

“I was defending a fellow LEO. No one on-scene will say one shot to the face was excessive use of force in that particular instance. I’d welcome a conversation with the Kershes right about now.”

“I need you both to be aware, be vigilant.”

“But you need me to press charges and testify?” Mack clarified.

“I do.”

She pulled out her phone from the pocket of her shorts. “I had the ED take pictures of my injuries when I went in.” She flipped through her photos, and Linc felt the return of his blood-boiling anger. He wished he would have had the opportunity to do more than knock out a tooth the fucker probably wouldn’t even miss.

Sunshine, sensing his mood, trotted over and leaned into him.

“Where’s my pie, chief?” Ty demanded, business concluded.





23





The clink of the bat brought half the crowd to its feet. Little Anton’s legs were a blur as he careened toward first base. He was the runt of the team, but the kid could hit like a player twice his size.

“Nice single, Anton!” Linc clapped along with the rest of the crowd from the dugout where he and head coach Luke Garrison wrangled the rest of the Benevolence Spider Pigs.

“You’re blocking my view of the plate, coach,” Luke complained to Linc.

“Maybe you should move then, coach,” Linc suggested.

“Maybe you should move,” Luke countered.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Linc’s nephew Brandon asked from his perch on top of the water cooler. “You’re not supposed to fight in front of us, remember?”

“We’re not fighting, Bran,” Linc lied.

“Yeah, we’re practically BFFs,” Luke growled.

Brandon remained unconvinced.

“Would I punch Coach Luke in the arm like this if we were fighting?” Linc asked, socking his frenemy in the bicep harder than necessary.

“Ow. And would I put your uncle in a headlock like this if we were fighting?”

They scuffled until the umpire strolled over. “You boys done causing a spectacle, or do I need to eject you again?” she asked pleasantly.

Linc gave Luke one last shove and beamed at her. “We’re good. Scout’s honor.”

She shook her head in resignation. “Why don’t you find an assistant coach you actually like?” she asked Luke.

“He’s an asshole,” Luke said. “But he knows the game, and he keeps the kids from ganging up on me.”

Linc pretended to wipe away a tear. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, buddy.”

Luke shot him a covert middle finger.

“Opposite ends of the dugout, or I’m telling both your mothers,” the ump ordered before returning to the plate.

Obediently, the coaches retired to their respective spaces, and the game resumed.

While the catcher scrambled after a foul ball, Sunshine perked up from the dugout and ran to the fence.

Linc spotted Mack limping toward the bleachers in sexy workout shorts to accommodate the unwieldy boot and a National Guard hoodie.

She paused to pet Sunshine through the chain link and then looked in his direction. Her sunglasses prevented him from seeing those eyes, that scar. But he felt the warmth of her gaze nonetheless. He jogged over to collect his dog, say hi to his girl.

“Didn’t know you were a fan, Dreamy.”

She held up the loaded hot dog that Sunshine was eyeing pathetically. “I’m a fan of ballpark food and getting the hell out of my house.” Less than forty-eight hours since her injury, and she was already climbing the walls.

“And the assistant coach. Don’t forget that you’re a fan of him, too.” He grinned.