Yeah, I know…

But I don’t understand…

That just doesn’t make sense…

What do you mean that’s all I can do?

Well, who the hell is that?…

Yes, I do think I have the right to get upset…

 

Deputy Fulson looked over to the man he had picked up earlier. He was new to the force and this was going to be his first big bust. He felt he had lucked out this time…

But when he came back to the station house, two things were wrong.

One, Sheriff Lewis and anybody who was anybody was gone. It was like a ghost house.

And two, when he went online to check out the prep, instead of a bio or a rap sheet, it just listed a telephone number in Washington.

Like a good cop, he had called and that’s when the ball dropped.

After 30 minutes on the phone with federal and state titles followed by names he couldn’t remember, all Fulson could do was question the man in the cell and let him go.

It made no sense and ticked him off no end.

The guy was smoking a mariajuana cigarette when he approached the car. At least the teenagers tried to put it out or toss it into the weeds before he go tot he window. But this guy kept smoking.

He should have known something was up right then and there…