Crown's Law Read Free

Pacific Ocean. They went directly to Sam’s bedroom
and he took her into his arms and kissed her.
    “It’s been too long, Chandra!” he whispered
in her ear as he nibbled on it.
    “Yes, it has, Sam! And we make such good
music together!” she replied—emphasizing her southern drawl—as she
began undressing. “Undo my bra, sweetie, and turn these hush
puppies loose for a breather.”
    ***
    Afterwards, Sam fixed a couple of cognacs and
they went out on the large deck and watched the waves roll in.
Chandra lit a filtered cigarette and blew smoke into the dark,
star-speckled sky. She was still naked under one of Sam’s terry
cloth robes, as was he. She raised her snifter of brandy and
touched it to his.
    “Here’s to us, Sam. I use you, you use me.
The perfect formula for a perfect relationship!” she laughed.
    “And the sex is good, too!” he chortled.
    “Only good? I must be slipping! I gave us 5
stars!”
    They sipped their drinks and were silent for
a moment. Then Chandra said, “OK, Sam, let’s use each other again.
You tell me what happened in that house, and I’ll give it whatever
spin you want. But I need the story!”
    “OK, Chandra,” he answered, then told her as
much of the story as he wanted her to know, while he ran his hand
under her robe and absently stroked the inside of her thigh.
    ***
    Monday morning, Sam was in Captain Charles
Reese’s office at 10 A.M. Sam brought a cup of coffee in his own
mug—one with the U.S. Marine Corps emblem on it. Reese waved him
into one of the visitor’s chairs and Sam eased into it.
    “Dammit, Sam! Why do you keep doing it?”
growled Reese from his black leather executive chair.
    “What, Charlie? Saving people’s lives? That
woman would have died if I hadn’t gone in there when I did. And he
might have shot the kid, too,” shrugged Sam, sipping his coffee.
“That was not only a good shooting, it was a necessary one!”
    “Shit, Sam! You know what I mean! Making
Jastro look like an ass! And on TV at that! That Claudet woman took
Jastro apart on the morning news!” blurted Reese as he stood and
started pacing. Reese, Captain of the Criminal Investigations
Division (CID), was wearing a blue suit—already rumpled by 10
A.M.—and his white shirt was pushed out, his stomach hanging over
his belt. He and Sam had graduated from the academy in the same
class, and Reese’s political aspirations had allowed him to climb
the promotion ladder to his current position.
    “Yeah, I caught her broadcast. Crazy Crown
saves woman and child while disobeying order given by asshole
Jastro, who would have let them both die while his head was up his
ass. Pretty accurate, I’d say. I didn’t make Jastro look like an
ass. He did that all by himself. She does have a way with words,
doesn’t she?” smiled Sam.
    “Oh, yeah! ‘We were privileged to see a true
hero—one who was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for
saving his platoon in Vietnam—again risk his life’ . . . blah,
blah, blah. Jastro wants to bring charges against you, but that
bitch has things set up so even if we give you a slap on the wrist,
she’ll tear us apart again.”
    “Maybe you deserve it. Why do you support
that asshole?”
    “You could have had that job instead of
Jastro. But, oh no, you have to stay down in the muck. I still
can’t figure you out, Sam,” grumbled Reese, sitting back down. “Do
you know how many officer-related shootings and excessive force
complaints you’ve had? You and your version of the law—‘Crown’s
Law’ everyone calls it.”
    “No, but I’m sure you do. All my shootings
have been good ones. You know that. I can’t help people while
sitting in an office. Well, I know you’re between a rock and a hard
place, Charlie. You have to do something about Jastro, or take
action against me. I don’t think you have the guts to buck the
system anymore, so I’m gonna make it easy on you. You’ve been a
good friend through the years. I have no intention