All three men turned their heads when they heard the screech of tires, followed by the whoop of a siren. A police cruiser had turned down the street and was advancing on them.
Puller saw the driver first and his heart sank.
It was Hooper.
Next to him was Landry.
Hooper looked excited.
Landry seemed uncertain.
Puller slipped his Mu back into its belt holster as the two cops got out of their car. Hooper had his gun pulled.
Of course you do, thought Puller.
Landry kept her gun holstered, but placed her hand on top of its butt.
Hooper advanced, swiveling his gun back and forth until he finally kept it pointed at Puller. “You just can’t keep out of trouble, buckaroo,” he said gleefully.
“I wasn’t aware I was in trouble,” replied Puller.
Hooper looked at the proximity of the Tahoe to the other car and said, “So you always park this close to other vehicles?”
“If I want to have a private conversation with somebody, yeah,” said Puller.
This comment made Landry snort and Hooper scowl.
“You keep up with the bullshit your ass will be in a lockup so fast you’ll get a nosebleed,” he snapped.
Puller said nothing to this inane comment because there was really nothing to say.
Even the guys in the car looked like they wanted to laugh, and probably would have except Hooper was now pointing his gun at them.
Puller said to Landry, “Can you ask your partner to holster? His finger is past the trigger guard. To me that means you’re going to fire.”
“Hoop,” said Landry in an admonishing tone. “No more accidents, okay?”
More accidents? thought Puller.
“We know he’s armed,” said Hooper, indicating Puller.
“I am armed because I’m required to be by the United States government,” pointed out Puller. “You can take it up with the Pentagon if you want, but I think federal trumps state, at least in this instance.”
He pointed at the two men in the car. “But now they might be armed too. I don’t know for sure.”
Landry’s gaze flicked to the car’s occupants. She stepped forward, her hand still gripping the butt of her sidearm. “Will you gentlemen please step out of the car with your hands where we can see them?”
“I can’t open my door,” said the guy on the passenger side. “His truck is blocking it.”
“Then slide across and out the driver’s side,” said Landry sharply.
With Hooper keeping his aim on them and now ignoring Puller, the two men slid out of the car, their hands held out in front of them.
“Are you armed?” asked Landry again.
Each man looked at the other.
The driver said, “We are not armed.”
“Open your jackets,” said Landry.
The men did so and there was nothing to see except shirts and belts.
Puller said, “Why have you been following me?”
The driver looked at him. He was about six feet tall, broad shoulders tapering to a slim, hard waist. His companion was likewise built. Their buzz cuts matched too. Up close they looked even more military.
“Who says we’ve been following you?”
“I do,” said Puller. “This is the fourth time I’ve seen you. Twice on this street.”
“It’s a small town,” said the man.
Landry said, “Let us see some ID.”
The men pulled out their wallets and handed over driver’s licenses. Landry wrote the info down in her notebook while Puller tried but failed to see the names and addresses on the licenses.
She handed them back.
The first man said, “Unless you have some reason for holding us, I’m assuming we can go now?”
Landry glanced at Puller and then back at the men and said, “Can you tell me what you’re doing in Paradise?”
“Just down here on vacation,” replied the man.
“Come again?”
“Are you getting paranoid?”
“I’m not paranoid. Those guys are following me.”
“You have proof of that?”