for June

30. Stray

"No siren on approach," Tom instructed through the earpiece, half expecting to hear, 'Copy that, Detective,' but Baker's voice crackled through the car radio. He turned the volume up as his partner brought the car to a crawling stop outside the Rawlings House and killed the lights. "He called triple zero?"

"About ten minutes ago, until the call abruptly cut out. I had an alert set up on Chad and Cassie's name. Anything or anyone mentioning those names would pop up."

"And?" Tom spoke into the radio.

"The situation seems volatile in there, Tom. Cassie threatened to kill both if they're not left alone. He did manage to say she was holding him in the garage before the call cut out."

Tom eyed the quiet street as other patrol cars pulled up and cordoned off the street in silence. "We're outside now, proceeding with caution."

He stared at the partially gloomy house. The garage was a flimsy roller door. The veranda looked old and creaky. The chicken wire fence on either side of the house was rusty and short, something they could easily climb over without a hitch.

"I want to know if there's a window in the garage. Can we see inside?"

His partner nodded, relaying the instruction to their team starting to get out of their cars. "Hold positions. Going in for a recon."

"Copy that."

He slid out of the car, closed the door softly and ran light-footed towards the side of the garage. A moment later, he scrambled back to the car and slipped in. "A meter by a fifty-centimetre window, fairly high up. The light is on. They are definitely home. I heard voices."

Tom nodded. "If we storm, she might shoot."

"I agree. She was screaming just now, something about him getting rid of wedding photos."

Tom took off his jacket, slipped his gun out of its holster, and got rid of the holster all together, leaving nothing but his Kevlar under his shirt. With his hair swept to one side and a clean-shaven face, he could easily pass for a knock-on-door sales agent.

"I'm going to approach. Knock. See if she'll come to the door. Get men in position. See if we can sneak in through the back door while I distract her." He hid his gun in the back of his pant and started off.

"Is that a good idea?"

"Better than ramming in and startling her."

"All right." His partner reached for the radio.

Tom slowly approached the house. He watched a few armed officers jump over the rusty fence and disappear around the sides of the house quietly, while others assumed positions around the neighbouring fronts, guns aimed at the door.

Tom combed his hair with his hand one last time and approached the house with caution. "Going in, stand by. If I say 'nice to meet you', move in."

"Copy that," his earpiece crackled one last time before radio silence.

He could hear his heart hammering in his chest beneath the bullet-proof vest. His footsteps echoed on the cracked concrete pathway leading up to the house. The closer he got, the louder Cassie's voice got.

"You don't love me anymore!" she screamed.

He glanced around, noticing neighbours gathering in their front lawns. He waved them to get back. "Get those fools back, Devon," he said to his partner, sure Devon was listening to the two-way earpiece he was wearing.

Once Officers started pushing people back into their houses, Tom made his final approach.

He took a deep breath before heading up to the veranda, as loud as he could. He was the diversion after all for the men swarming the back yard.