Streak of Lightning Read Free

up one heck of a fight.
    â€œWhat is it this time, Joe?” Jesse said. “This is the second time today I’ve had to deal with you. Even for you, that’s a bit much.”
    Joe pulled away from Greg. “Your officer interfered with a private conversation I was having with my neighbor.”
    Greg rolled his eyes. “He got into an argument with Violet Gordon again.”
    â€œThe lady who owns the flower shop?” I said.
    â€œThat’s the one. They get into it a few times a month. Yesterday she punched Joe in the mouth.”
    I looked at Joe again. He wasn’t a big man, maybe five-seven or -eight, a hundred and forty pounds, but still, how had she managed to do what most of the town had been thinking about for a long time? “Violet is a tiny little thing,” I said. “And she’s really nice. Are you sure she punched him?”
    Joe cocked an eyebrow. “She can give as good as she gets.”
    â€œJoe and Violet had words on the sidewalk outside her shop, which ended when he grabbed a chair from his restaurant and threw it through her window. She found me and told me what had happened.” Well, at least that mystery was solved.
    â€œIs Violet okay?” I asked.
    â€œDidn’t you listen, quilt shop girl? I didn’t throw the chair at Violet,” Joe said, his speech growing more slurred with each sentence. “All I did was break a window and ruin a few flowerpots. It’s just a tiny little hole of a shop, so how much damage could I have done? You don’t even know if she’s going to press charges. In fact, I’m the one who should press charges. She grabbed my coat and ripped it to shreds.” He pointed to a small tear in his jacket, a puffy winter coat with dirt on the collar. He had it zipped up to his neck so that his head looked like that of a turtle popping out from its shell. A very angry and drunk turtle. “You should arrest her for this instead of trying to pin something on me.”
    Greg looked about out of patience. “You pushed me, Mr. Proctor. That’s assaulting an officer and resisting arrest.”
    â€œThat’s a lie.” Joe’s words slurred even more. “I didn’t push you. You pushed me. You’re just a punk kid, Greg Burke. Your father was a punk, and so are you.”
    Jesse turned to me. “I’m sorry, Nell, but I’m going to have to stay—”
    â€œNo way,” Greg interrupted. “This isn’t going to keep you from your weekend. I’ll put him in a cell and do the paperwork. There’s nothing for you to do.”
    I looked at Jesse. “It’s up to you.”
    â€œOh, come on, Chief,” Greg said. “You can trust me to look after one prisoner. I know I’m a little new as a detective, but I’ve been babysitting since I was thirteen, and that’s pretty much all I need to do with Joe here.”
    Jesse walked over to Joe and gave him a long, hard look. “You threw a chair through Violet’s window and broke a couple of flowerpots. That it?”
    â€œThat’s it.”
    â€œYou want to tell me why?”
    â€œI don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
    â€œYour wife worries about you, Joe. And frankly, so do I. Maybe I should send you to the hospital and make sure you didn’t throw out your back. A man of your age hurling chairs around—”
    â€œMy back is fine.” Joe spit the words out. “Dewalt, you want to have a lawsuit on your hands? You start spreading rumors that there’s something wrong with me . . .”
    Jesse grunted. “The whole town already knows there’s something wrong with you, Joe.” He moved back and looked at his detective. “Okay, Greg. Joe goes in the cell. Fill out the report. Charge him with damage to property and assaulting an officer for now. Call Violet and see if she’ll come to the station to make a