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256 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published February 1, 2010
"Excellent question. I'm not about to teach you how to start fights. I'm going to teach you how to finish them."
"And disable our attackers?" Streak asked.
"If that's what it takes. We have three objectives." He counted on his fingers. "First, get free. Second, get away, and third, get safe." He grinned at her.
"And avoid a right cross while you're about it."
"Why not just shoot his ass?" asked a plump and cheerful lady who looked like Mrs. Santa Claus. "My husband says shoot until the gun goes click, click,
then if you have time, reload and do it again."
There were nods all around.
"What if you don't have a gun handy?" Randy said. "How many of you have gun permits and carry a weapon in your car, or have one in your house?"
Every hand went up.
"How many of you feel comfortable shooting it?"
Everyone except Streak raised her hand. A cross section of female West Tennessee America, and every one of them owned a gun. If he were a perp,
he'd be terrified. But then, if faced with shooting someone for real, so would they. He didn't usually do this until later in the course, but after Streak's little
episode, he decided to move up his demonstration. "'Scuse me a second," he said.
He came back from his gym locker with the .38 Smith & Wesson short-barreled five shot he carried in his ankle holster as backup to his Sig Sauer .45.
He unloaded it, checked it twice, dropped the bullets into his pocket and offered Mrs. Claus the weapon, butt first. "I carry a weapon at all times, even off
duty." He winked at them. "So I can take down your friendly neighborhood ATM bandit at Kroger's. I've never shot anyone and I pray I never have to, and I
definitely hope you never have to, either. Now, Mrs C¦."
"Ellen," she simpered. She held the gun low with her trigger finger safely along the side, even though she had just seen it unloaded. Someone had taught
her well.
Bachelor Cop © Carolyn McSparren
"AS A GENERAL RULE, I don't even like children," Randy said. He poured creamer into Jack Samuels's cup and handed it to him. At her desk, Liz
Slaughter stirred bran into her yogurt. She was limiting her caffeine intake for the duration of her pregnancy. She had yet to switch to maternity tops, but
the baby bulge grew more prominent every day.
"Most of the kids we see in here" Jack took a sip of his coffee "are one step short of feral. They'd have been better off if they had been raised by
wolves. Wolves have a moral code."
"Half the kids expect to be dead before they hit twenty-five," Liz interjected.
"Too many of them actually are," Jack added. "My point is that they're anything but normal kids."
"The only kids I know are my cousins," Randy said. "They're loud, spoiled, selfish, have the table manners of warthogs and treat their parents with
contempt."
"So do you," Jack commented.
Bachelor Cop © Carolyn McSparren