From my previous post:

A few minutes later, Troy answered his cell. "Dad, what'd you find out?" He listened. "So the truck is registered to Ted Edwards. How's Anna? Is Sam with her?" He threw the soda can in the trash. "Is Sam all right? If he's on his way to the hospital, then Anna's by herself. How close are you to her apartment?" He listened again. "Gated communities do have downfalls. You can't always get in. I'll be there in about 10 minutes. 'Bye."

*******
Today's post:

Maybe I should have a talk with Ted. Troy ran his fingers through his short brown hair. Probably not the smartest thing. He might have a gun. He put on his helmet, turned, and stared at the pickup before getting on his Harley. After releasing a deep breath, he said, "Now to get to Anna without getting myself killed."

Troy studied the traffic patterns. Which way should I go? It's a crap shoot. It'll be slow going, but I'd better stay in heavy traffic. It'd be harder for Ted to do something. Since Sam was forced into a tree, I'll stay in the center lane. He started his motorcycle and headed toward the street.

Ted drove in front of Troy and stopped.

This can't be good. I'd better stay calm. Troy felt his heart pounding.

With the passenger window down, Ted aimed a sawed-off shotgun at Troy. "Get in or you're dead."

Troy closed his eyes. Breathe, breathe, don't show fear. "I'm not going anywhere with you. So either shoot me or get out of my way." Troy edged his bike toward the road and avoided eye contact.

"I don't think you heard me." Ted leaned closer and stuck the weapon farther out the window.

Troy's stomach contents rose to his throat so he swallowed. This isn't going to end well. I won't have a chance if I get in his truck. Think. "I heard you. Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I'm not getting in your truck. Either shoot me in front of all these witnesses or get out of my way. I need to be somewhere." If I go in front of him, he'll run me over. If I go behind him, I'll still need to be in front to get back to the street. I can't stay here. I'm screwed.

Troy blew out air when a police cruiser pulled in front of the pickup and another one behind him. Just in time. I bet Everett had something to do with this.

The taller officer motioned for Troy to get out of the way, before he jumped from the vehicle, pulled his weapon, and used his car for protection. He aimed at the man behind the pickup windshield. "Drop the weapon in the seat, get out, hands behind your head, and lay face down on the ground!"

The second officer knelt behind his open car door, with a shotgun aimed toward the truck. "Do what you're told, now!" He watched Ted open the door and stumble out. When the suspect lay on the ground, the first officer handcuffed him.

"This is harassment. We're just having a little fun. I wasn't going to shoot him." Ted glared toward Troy.

The shorter officer watched his partner put the suspect in the back seat of the cruiser as he read him his rights, before he walked over to the passenger window of the truck. "Hey, John, there's an open bottle of Jack in the front seat." He opened the door, took a latex glove from his back pocket, pulled it on, and picked up a baggy. The shorter officer held it for John to see and chuckled. "I wonder what this is. I bet its weed." He walked over to the prisoner. "Well, Scumbag, you have some problems."

"Joel, get that shotgun and check the barrel's length. It looked like it was sawed shorter than the legal eighteen inches." The taller officer stood beside the cruiser's driver's door.

Joel walked back to the truck. "I think you're right." He studied the weapon. "I'd say the barrel is about fourteen or fifteen inches." He turned toward Troy. "We'll need your statement, Mr. Whitman."

"Can I give it later?"

"We need it now. You need to stay away from the hostage situation. Let the police do their job."

The taller officer left for the police station with the prisoner. Joel called for a tow-truck to impound Ted's pickup.

While he waited, Troy gave the officer his statement, then mounted his bike.

Now, maybe I can help Anna. Troy headed toward her apartment, ignoring the previous suggestion.

*****
Not being able to get through the gate, Troy parked his Harley and walked the rest of the way. When he spotted his dad and Everett standing outside the yellow police ribbon, he waved his hand and they headed toward him.

Paul hugged his son. "I'm glad you're finally here. I was getting worried."

Troy offered his hand to Everett. "Did you have anything to do with the police showing up?"

He nodded. "I thought you could use the help."

"Thanks. They came at exactly the right time. I'll fill in the details later. Where's Michael?"

"He's with your mom," Paul answered.

"Good. Do you think Mom's in any danger?"

"I suggested she turn on the house alarm and stay in my den so it looks like nobody's home. She should be safe."

"Police cruisers are patrolling the area."

"Thanks again, Everett." Troy glanced toward the apartment. "Is the negotiator here, yet?"

Everett nodded toward a man wearing a headset, working on something and leaning on the car's hood. "He arrived about five minutes ago and is setting up. They've evacuated the surrounding apartments." Everett patted Troy's back. "I'll get closer and see if I can find out anything."

Paul and Troy watched Everett walk away.

"Dad, it's bad, isn't it?"

"All we can do is pray."