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seemed to have gotten through to him. “Dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s.” I reassured both of us. “It ain’t for you to worry over.” Had to wonder why they didn’t just send me a consent decree outlining POST’s position and my punishment, but probably because it had all gotten so messy they wanted to hear it outta my mouth to get it straight.
    “Are you sure?” I sorta guessed he’d ask at least one more time.
    “Do I look worried?” I knew I didn’t because there was no way I’d let myself. “No. So put a sock in it.”
    Now that grin of his went a might wicked. He stepped up close and teased. “You going to gag me in public?”
    I almost shuddered at that proposition. “No.” I licked my upper lip, tasting my own interest in the sudden beads of sweat there. “But I could if we went on home.”
    He barked out a laugh and fished for his keys. “Bet I can beat you to your place,” he taunted as he yanked the door and jumped into his truck. Boy knew mine was parked on the back side of the lot. I started running. I might still be able to at least match him and his worn out old truck.
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    Chapter 5
    I walked in the door to my place just after Kabe. Couldn’t believe he’d beat me home. Knew he was there since his truck blocked half of where I usually parked and he’d left the front door wide open. I’d have to blister his hide for that…squirrels sure didn’t need to profit off him running up my heating oil bill.
    Didn’t get a chance to say much of nothing. “Fuck, have you ever read one of these things?” Kabe looked up as I swung the door shut behind me. He sat with his butt propped on the arm of the couch reading the subpoena. His lips were smashed together in a thin line and he tapped the edge of the empty manila envelope against his leg.
    My shotgun slung over my shoulder, I walked on past him to the small gun safe under the stairs. I’d never owned one before, but with Kabe around…well he wasn’t supposed to be in possession of firearms. So if’n they were locked up and I had the combo then there weren’t no way he possessed them. See, I used to just leave my shotgun and service weapons in the trunk of my patrol car, but a deputy over in Kane County lost all his arms when somebody broke into his vehicle while he was sleeping. I started bringing ‘em inside after I heard about that. Kept my hunting rifles and all the ammo in the safe too. Darn thing cost me close to three hundred bucks. Weren’t the best one on the market, but heck I didn’t need it to survive a nuclear bomb or nothing.
    While I stowed my sidearm and the shotgun, Kabe read out, in a snippy little bureaucrat’s voice, “The People of The State of Utah Send Greetings to: Kabe Varghese.” With a snort Kabe rolled his eyes. “Greetings my ass.” Then he continued, “WE COMMAND YOU that all and singular, business and excuses being laid aside, you appear and attend before: The Peace Officer Standards and Training Council…” He came up behind me and waved the paper in front of my face until I smacked his hand aside. “Where’d they steal that language from? The first draft of the Bible? Excuses being laid aside, shit.”
    I slammed the safe shut, spun the lock and stood. “That’s what happens when you let a bunch of white-shoe lawyers get their hands on writing things.” Court documents always used three times the words any normal person needed to say the same thing. “It’s just to make it seem formal. It ain’t nothing.” I unbuckled my big duty belt—with the holster, cuff case, flashlight and other junk hung off it—and slid it on top of the gun safe.
    Kabe read over the sheet again. “Seriously though, dude, this doesn’t sound like nothing.”
    “Would you quit bugging about it?” I walked away, shucking my coat. “It ain’t nothing.” Figured if I repeated it enough he might just believe me. Didn’t necessarily believe it myself.
    Kabe dogged my