the unsettling scene. Naturally the dog did not respond. Jon hadn’t expected him to.
“Call off your dog—right now!” the cop yelled angrily. “Or else!”
“Back off, Ralph!” Jon commanded and, to his amazement, the little terrier quieted some.
“And you stay right there!” the cop told Jon. “I mean it!”
“Fine.” Jon stopped in his tracks, reminding himself to go easy. Was this guy an imposter like the woman suggested? As he tried to gauge the situation, he wished he hadn’t left his cell phone behind. Even without connectivity, he could be gathering valuable video.
“What’s the problem, Officer?” Jon kept his voice calm and respectful.
“Police business. Now get your mutt and yourself outta here!” he yelled.
Of course, his loud voice set Ralph to barking all over again. Appreciating this distraction, Jon moved closer to the scene. “Don’t worry.” He tried to sound casual. “His bark is worse than his bite. Well, actually he’s never bitten anyone.”
“Stay right where you are!” The cop stepped away from the girl, still holding tightly to her arm, but now she was able to stand up straight. She looked at Jon with desperate brown eyes but didn’t say a word.
“Just trying to get my dog.” Jon held up his hands, forcing an uneasy smile. “Like you said to.”
“Freeze, right there!” the cop shouted, setting Ralph to barking louder. “And control your dog or I will.”
Jon wanted to question how he was supposed to control Ralph if the cop wouldn’t let him move. Instead, he took a different approach. “So what’s going on here?” he asked in a friendly tone, keeping his eyes on the helpless girl who didn’t look as if she could hurt a fly.
“None of your—”
“He says there’s a warrant on me,” the girl shouted, “but I’ve never done anything illegal—ever! And he won’t even check my ID—and he hasn’t read my Miranda rights—he’s a fake and—”
“Shut up!” The cop glanced over his shoulder at her, then back at Jon. He seemed to be rattled as he turned to fully face Jon. “I told you to get that stupid mutt outta here!”
“I would have to move to get the dog,” Jon explained. “You told me to freeze.”
Suddenly the cop released his hold on the girl and reached for his holster, removing his revolver. “Now! I mean it—or else!”
“Come here, Ralph,” Jon said with authority. His tail between his legs, Ralph slowly approached, and Jon scooped him up. The little dog’s body was tense, as if on high alert, as if something were still very wrong.
“Now get outta here!” The cop brandished his weapon.
“Unarmed here,” Jon held up one hand, holding Ralph with the other.
The cop cursed, and pointed the weapon at him.
Before he could stop him, Ralph sprang from Jon’s arms and returned to barking. The frightened woman, free from the cop’s grasp now, watched Jon with a tear-streaked face. He knew he needed to do something—but what? His training and experience as an attorney suggested he should attempt to talk him down.
“I can see something is wrong,” Jon suggested in a calm but firm tone, “but maybe we can discuss this in a civilized manner.” He considered informing the cop that he was an attorney. He could express interest in this woman’s rights, offer to be her legal representation. “I’d like to suggest—”
“I already told you what to do—get your stupid mutt and get outta here!” Despite his angry tone, the cop looked uncertain. He was clearly caught off guard by this uncomfortable triangle—a woman behind him, Jon about thirty feet in the opposite direction and a little dog barking several feet away.
“I warned you!” The cop aimed his gun at Ralph.
“Stop!” Jon lunged for the dog as a loud bang sliced the air. Ralph let out a yelp, collapsing to the ground. The woman screamed, and Jon, frozen in place, felt his adrenaline boiling. His eyes fixed on the cop, he weighed the situation. This cop, if he was one, was definitely crooked. But he was also armed. And dangerous.
The cop looked flustered and agitated—as if trying to make up his mind. Probably deciding which one of them to shoot next. In that same split second, Jon knew without a doubt that this cop was either an imposter or dirty. He looked at the woman and made his decision. “Run!” he yelled at her.
As the cop turned to the girl, Jon sprang at him. Making a huge leap, he blindsided the distracted man. Although the cop was much stouter, Jon’s momentum knocked him flat onto the graveled road, making the revolver fly from his hand.
But the woman was still standing there!
“Run for your life!” Jon yelled at her. He could tell he’d knocked the wind out of the startled cop, but every second was precious. “Run!” he shouted. But instead of fleeing, she sprinted straight toward them and snatched up Ralph. Then she turned and, like a shot, she flew up the side of the dune.
The red-faced cop cursed angrily when he regained his breath. “You’re a dead man!” he growled as he swung a fist at Jon. As Jon dodged the blow, he noticed the service revolver just a few feet away and reached for it. At the same moment, the cop went for it, too, and both men scrambled in the sand and gravel, fighting for the weapon. The cop swung another massive fist, and as Jon dodged he was able to solidly kick the revolver, sending it spinning into the nearby brush. As the cop leaped for his gun, Jon sprinted up the side of the tall dune.
Just seconds from the beach grass on top, Jon heard the first shot. Kicking it into high gear, he raced for the top just as several shots cracked in quick succession. As he dove for the cover of the grass, he felt a searing jolt on the outer side of his right thigh. He’d been hit. Ducking down, he crawled on all fours, using the tall grass to conceal himself as a couple more shots flew past. He knew that, despite the pain in his thigh, he had to keep moving. Fast!
Crouching low, Jon crawled to the other side of the dune, then continued to run. He had no doubt the cop was following—or that he wanted him dead. Because dead men don’t talk. Jon’s only hope was that, despite his throbbing leg, he could outrun the overweight man. If he was a real cop, which seemed unlikely. And if he was a real cop, he wouldn’t be one for long. Because Jon intended to turn the jerk in, as soon as he got the chance. That is if the cop didn’t kill him first.
As Jon pressed on through the dunes, he prayed that the woman had taken his nonverbal hint and headed north. Cabins, including his parents’ place, were in that direction. And even though most of the vacation cabins sat vacant this time of the year, there was a better chance of her finding help up there. In the meantime, he was determined to lead the crooked cop away from her by heading south. He knew this stretch of shoreline was void of civilization for the next several miles—all the way to the jetty. He also knew that if his body gave out—and that seemed likely—he would probably be dead before sundown.
* * *
Leah paused to catch her
