Neon Cop's Arc

Chapter 4 of 10

By morning, Neon Cop knew he had lost his head start. One arrested officer had made a call before losing his phone. Now Bander knew his mother had moved. The tin sat in a friend's house across town, unguarded. The shipping papers inside named Bander in the smuggling trade. They were the only hard proof left. If Bander's people reached the house first, the case died. Neon Cop grabbed his keys and drove. He took the long way and watched his mirrors. A brown car followed him for two turns, then peeled off. He could not tell if it hunted him or the house. He pressed the gas. The modest beach house sat quiet behind a weathered porch. Neon Cop knocked twice, fast. His mother opened the door in her cardigan and skirt, calm as a Sunday. She read his face the way she always did. "They know where you are," he said. "A man on Bander's payroll made a call before we took him. We have to move the tin. Now." Mrs. Wilson did not argue. She stepped back and lifted the gold cookie tin from a shelf by the window. She pressed the fitted lid down until it clicked. "Then take it to Parker," she said. "You should have days ago." "You wanted a backup." "A backup does no good if they burn the house down to get it." She held the tin out. Her hands did not shake. "I trust the chief. So do you. Stop hiding it in my kitchen." A car door slammed outside. Neon Cop stepped to the window. The brown car had returned. It idled at the curb. A big man in plain clothes stood beside it, watching the porch. Not a uniform. One of Bander's. "Back door," Mrs. Wilson said. She was already moving. Neon Cop tucked the tin under his arm. He pushed his mother ahead of him through the kitchen and out the rear. They cut across the yard to his car parked in the alley. Behind them, the front door thumped under a fist. He put his mother in the passenger seat and drove hard before the man rounded the house. No one followed this time. Neon Cop drove straight to the police station and parked in the lot he had photographed days before. He walked the tin inside himself. In Parker's office, he set it on the desk and lifted the lid. The shipping papers lay folded inside, Bander's name printed plain. Parker studied them, then locked them in the department safe. "This is evidence now," he said. "On the record. They can't touch it here." Neon Cop let out a long breath. The proof was safe. His mother was safe. But the man in the brown car had seen his plate. Bander knew he had moved the tin into police custody. Now Bander knew exactly how close the case had come to his door.