“Greg Hutchins?” The officer stood in front of him, his partner close. His squad car was parked on the street.
“Yes, what’s happened?” Please let her be okay. He could handle anything if she was all right.
“Greg Hutchins, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent,” the big officer said.
Yeah, he hadn’t expected that at all.
* * * *
“Where exactly are you taking me? I want to talk to my lawyer.” Hutch was still in shock twenty minutes later as he was ushered through the hallways of the Jack Evans Police Headquarters. It wasn’t where he’d expected them to go. There was a district office far closer to his house, but they’d blown right past it and come to the main building downtown. If this was about what had happened with that asswipe Jeffrey, they should have gone to the nearest district to book him.
“Where you need to go,” the smaller of the two officers said.
And now that he thought about it, something was wrong with his arrest. He’d thought he was getting hauled in because he’d beaten the crap out of an overly privileged douchebag, but now he suspected something else was going on. “What exactly am I under arrest for?”
No one had mentioned that. They’d simply thrown handcuffs on him and hauled him out to the car. It was lucky for him his door locked automatically or his house and all its contents would have been vulnerable.
Was that what was going on here? Was he being drawn away so someone could attempt to get a look at his system?
“I think they’re calling it impeding a federal investigation,” a familiar voice said as they rounded the corner. “They got me as I was dropping off the oldest kids at the middle school. Tash and Kenzie got real upset, but Kala taped the whole thing on her phone and laughed her ass off. Do not have kids.”
Ian stood outside a door marked Conference Room, his hands cuffed. Unlike Hutch, someone had been nice to Tag and his hands were in front rather than behind his back.
Still, someone was probably going to die. Big Tag had deep ties to DPD. The chief was a member of Sanctum.
The conference room door came open and another familiar face walked out. Chris Taylor was dressed in a suit this morning, his badge around his neck. He didn’t look like he’d slept much, but then he wouldn’t have if he’d actually worked a full shift at his “second” job. He glanced down at the cuffs and sighed. “Get those cuffs off them. Who the hell told you to bring in Ian Taggart in handcuffs?”
The officer standing near Ian immediately went to work. “It was not my idea, Detective. I realized who I was supposed to arrest and damn near crapped my pants. Luckily, the big guy was in a pretty good mood.”
“My arresting officer showed up with coffee and lemon donuts,” Ian said as the cuffs came off his wrists. “What did you get?”
“Potentially syphilis, since I don’t think anyone’s cleaned the back of that squad car in forty years.” Hutch winced as his arms were free to move again. It was so unfair. He hadn’t even gotten a cup of coffee this morning.
“Donuts?” Taylor asked.
The officer shrugged. “Everyone knows the big guy likes them, and I am hoping he understands I was merely following orders. The fed told us we had to arrest them and put them in handcuffs. She wanted to put the fear of God in them. I tried to tell her about Big Tag, but she did not get it. Hence the lemon donuts, and you should know I let him call his wife. Write me up if you want to but this whole assignment stinks.”
“What does my guy have to do with McKay-Taggart?” The officer who’d arrested Hutch put his cuffs back on his belt.
“He’s my cybersecurity expert,” Big Tag explained. “He’s the guy who your cybercrimes head calls when he needs help. Hutch, are you going to feel like helping the next time the lieutenant calls?”
It sucked that almost no one was scared of him. Tag got donuts and phone calls, and Hutch got a stain on his jeans that might never go away. “Definitely not, and I will mention why. I’m also feeling a little hack coming on. Maybe it’s a cough from whatever I picked up in that car, or maybe it’s the kind of thing that gets an officer’s name on a no-fly list.”
The officer held his hands up. “Man, I was following orders and I will clean the car.” He looked to the other officer. “Donuts? You’re an asshole, Jones.”
“I’m a motherfucking genius, since I know not to piss off the dudes who work with brass,” Jones replied. “You were trying to show off for the feds.”