Always a Gun

ALWAYS A GUNTerry Persun Copyright © 2023 by Terry Persun All rights reserved.No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.Custom Cover Design by SelfPubBookCovers.com/andrewgraphics For Howard, Jeri, and Randy Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Dear Reader About the Author Also by Terry Persun Chapter 1 Even what sounded like a simple robbery made Leslie’s stomach turn. He glanced toward his partner, Mae Belle Walker, cocked his head, and started his patrol car. “Guess we’re heading toward Larry’s Strip Mall.” He still called it Larry’s because Larry’s Firearms used to be the anchor for the strip when it was first built, maybe forty years ago, until just recently, maybe five years ago, when the Z-Mart took over the anchor position. Shit, he thought while pulling out of the Dunkin’ Donuts lot where he and Mae Belle had stopped for coffee. Had it been that long since Larry’s Firearms had folded?Mae Belle stayed in touch with dispatch using the patrol car’s radio. Over the unit came Glenda’s gravelly voice. “Robbery in-process.” Glenda was a long-time heavy smoker, and Leslie cringed to hear her voice over the radio. In the day, she had a sweet voice, but time and cigarettes can change that.“Going on right now,” Mae Belle said. She keyed the mic. “Be there in three.” He noticed the glint of excitement in her eyes. “The perp is waving a baseball bat around,” Glenda said over the comms. “Only a baseball bat. No weapon,” Mae Belle repeated. “There’s always a gun,” Leslie said before pointing at the radio. “You know I can hear her.” “Sorry, Fuller. I repeat things to set them in my head. I’ll stop. I just meant that it appeared that his only weapon was a baseball bat.” “We don’t know the perpetrator is a he.” “Probably is, though. Some hoodlum thinking he can get away with a robbery using a baseball bad.” Leslie smiled at her innocence. She smiled back. “I know what goes on in this town.” Mae Belle was a fairly new recruit. They had only been working together a few weeks. He was still getting to know her. This was the first real crime they’d been called to. At that time of year, a lot of people holed up in their homes after nine o’clock. Leslie suspected the majority might even be sleeping. “You don’t have to stop repeating if it helps you do your job,” he said. They were only three minutes from the Z-Mart as Mae Belle had told Glenda. Leslie pulled up to the side of the building and turned off the cruiser. He sat for a moment, not even reaching for the door handle.“Front or back?” Mae asked a bit more enthusiastically than he expected. “Front,” Leslie said. “Yeah, he’s not likely to rush out the front door and run like hell,” she said. He heard a bit of sarcasm in her voice and put it off until later. But he’d have to have a talk with her, nonetheless. “I’d like to retire,” he said, thinking about getting swatted by a baseball bat as the perp tried running out the back. “Wouldn’t we all.” “You’re much younger. You can run faster.” He chuckled but didn’t feel it was funny. He knew what he was doing, avoiding head-on conflict. He did want to retire.They both got out of the car. He waited for Mae Belle to reach the corner of the building before reaching inside the cruiser. He chirped the siren a few times to get the person inside to panic and run. They needed to surprise him. That way, he’d be less likely to hurt the person working behind the counter. Leslie swung around the back of the cruiser and headed toward the front door. He caught a glimpse of the young man. Long hair, scruffy beard, loose clothing. Probably a meth-head looking for cash. Like an idiot, he glanced toward Leslie, then he threw the bat down and ran for the back door. Drugs could really make you stupid, Leslie thought. He took a few quick steps toward the front door and rushed inside. He looked at a frightened young girl at the counter and wondered who called the robbery in. She still had her hands up. “You okay?” She nodded her head yes. “I’ll be back.” He turned and went out the door again and rushed toward the far end of the strip mall. There were only three stores in the strip: the Z-Mart where Larry’s used to be, Shear Beauty, and Seconds, a used bookstore for mostly mass market paperbacks. By the time he reached the end of the building, he heard Mae Belle yelling into her shoulder radio, “Coming your way.” Leslie hoped he was going in the right direction. Just as he turned the corner at Seconds, the kid ran into him. His reflexes were still quick. Leslie swung his arm around and grabbed the kid’s bulky shirt up near the neck, jerked him back, and tripped him, following him to the ground where he placed a knee on the kid’s thigh. “That hurts!” “I didn’t hit you with a bat,” Leslie said. Mae Belle came around the side of the building, pulled out handcuffs, and slipped them over the kid’s wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. . .” Leslie yanked the kid to his feet and turned him around as Mae