Long Road Home(30)

“Hold on,” he muttered through his teeth. He slammed on the brakes as the Hummer came up beside them. Jerking the wheel, he executed a perfect J-turn and immediately accelerated in the opposite direction.

Only problem was, the cops were bearing down on them, and unless he rammed them, the only alternative was to stop. A quick glance in the mirror told him the Hummer had split.

“Shit.” He jammed his foot on the brake and came to a complete stop as cop cars converged from every direction. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned, not sure what Jules would do when threatened with capture.

She gave him a nasty look and immediately stuck her hands out the window. He did the same, and soon cops were yanking them out of the car.

He was bent over the hood, his hands twisted behind him as two officers cuffed him. He looked up to see Jules slammed on the hood, her face against the metal as her arms were wrenched behind her back. “Watch it,” he snarled. “There’s no need to get rough with her.”

“Shut the hell up,” the cop closest to his ear hissed. “What the hell did you think you were doing? Having it out with an opposing gang?”

“Do I look like a gangbanger?” Manuel growled as he was hauled upright.

He and Jules were read their rights then unceremoniously stuffed into two separate cruisers. He watched the car with her in it glide away. Damn it all to hell. This was not what he needed. Though he doubted he had anything to worry about, he hoped like hell Jules kept in character and did no talking.

When they arrived at the station house, he was fingerprinted and took the prerequisite mug shot. Before they could so much as ask him a question, he insisted on his phone call.

“My phone,” he snarled at the cop who’d manhandled Jules.

The man slapped the phone into Manuel’s hand and stood to the side as Manuel punched in Tony’s number. Please don’t let this be the one time he was standing down.

“I guess this means you didn’t catch your flight,” Tony said wearily as he answered.

“How’d you know?”

“You should be in the air right now. You’re on your phone. So you aren’t.”

“Got it in one,” he muttered. “I need a favor, man. And I need it yesterday.” He quickly outlined what had happened. “I need to get Jules out of here before anyone starts asking questions, and before Sanderson gets wind that we’ve been picked up.”

“Nothing’s ever easy with you.” Tony sounded exasperated.

“Can you get me out of here or not?”

“Give me a few minutes. Hang tight.”

Manuel hung up the phone and handed it back to the policeman. “Take me to my cell, Danno.”

“It’s Officer Williams to you,” the cop ground out.

He glared at the cop on his way by. He usually took a much more tolerant stance toward the local uniforms, but this one had crossed the line. “Like roughing up the women?”

“The woman was firing a weapon out the window of your car,” Williams snarled.

Okay, he had a point, but it still didn’t warrant the mistreatment Jules had undergone. Manuel compressed his lips into a thin line and entered the cell. The door clanged behind him, and he began to time how long it would take Tony to get his ass out of a crack this time.

And then he began to worry about Jules.

Ten minutes later, the cop returned and opened the cell door. “Why didn’t you tell us who you were?”

Manuel raised an eyebrow. “And who am I?” he asked, wondering what story Tony had come up with.

“Damn feds. Arrogant sons of bitches.”

Ahh, so Tony had made him an FBI agent. Just as well. The cops would be only too glad to see him gone. They tended to get territorial when the feds came sniffing around their turf.

He followed Williams to where Jules was being held in a cell block across the precinct. As they approached her cell, he could see her huddled in the far corner. She sat on the floor, her knees hunched to her chest. But when she saw him, she leaped up, all signs of vulnerability gone.

She stalked over to the bars and glared at the cop. Then she turned her attention to Manuel. “We getting out?”

In answer to her question, Williams slid the cell door open. She glided through the opening, and with a satisfied smirk, stepped on the cop’s toe. He grimaced and shot her a glare.

“The lieutenant wants to see you before you leave,” Williams said. His distaste was obvious. He clearly wanted them to be gone immediately.

Manuel put a hand to Jules’s back and led her down the hall after the officer. They walked into a small office, and a fortyish-looking man scowled at them over the rim of his glasses.

“Sit down,” he ordered, taking off his glasses and dropping them on his desk.

Jules complied but Manuel stood, opting to lean against the bookcase that lined the wall. He wasn’t one to give up any advantage.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the lieutenant asked. Manuel glanced at the nameplate toward the front of the desk.

“’Fraid I can’t tell you that, Lieutenant Barnes.”

“Bullshit. You idiots were shooting up my streets.” He glared over at Jules as he spoke.

She stiffened, and Manuel willed her to remain silent.

“I have no idea why they wanted to kill us,” Manuel responded evenly. “But my partner had no desire to see them succeed.”