In the movies they make it look like following someone is easy. You just drive behind them. Even if there’s no other cars around, they don’t notice. Even if it’s night and you’re on a dirt road in the dark country and you have your headlights on, they don’t notice.
I think I had been following the detective for maybe 23 seconds before she pulled over.
Seeing her at that slaughterhouse threw me for a loop. Maybe trying to follow her wasn’t the best decision. I’m starting to think that I don’t make good choices when I’m under pressure. Gary asked me what we were doing and I couldn’t explain. I blurted out that I knew her “sort of”.
When I got out of Gary’s car to confront her, I intended to be cool and say “you’re a long way from Atlanta aren’t you?” but she started screaming at me, asking what the fuck I was doing there and instead I yelled back “What the fuck are you doing here?!”
Standing on the side of the road shouting fuck at one another, I noticed how awful the Detective looked. I’m not one to throw stones but every other time I’ve seen her, she looked like a lady detective from a TV show. Now she looks more like the actress who plays that detective after she says a bunch of racist shit on twitter, gets fired from the show, stars in a horrible movie that loses a ton of money, starts smoking crack, ends up working boat shows, and is considering starting an OnlyFans page to help make ends meet. Which it won’t because no one cares about her saggy crack tits anymore.
Mutual shouting was about as far as things progressed before Gary walked up looking more confused and scared than usual. At which point the detective drew her gun and starting freaking out even more. “Who’s this fucking guy?!” she shrieked. “That’s fucking Gary!” I replied.
I could see in Gary’s eye that his reaction to having a seemingly deranged woman point a gun at him was relief. My plan to build him back up from his suicidal low point clearly isn’t working great. That’s when another cop car pulled up. A real one I mean, with lights and shit. I guess that’s called a marked car?
This seemed like a bad turn for me. But these weren’t reinforcements for her. They were telling the Detective to put her gun down. They called her “ma’am”. Not detective or sergeant or whatever cops call each other. Ma’am. That made my blood run cold.
I became convinced that bullets were going to fly so I started trying to subtly cast my armor spell – knowing that it wouldn’t really work against bullets. One of the cops saw my hands moving and didn’t like that in the least. He put his hand on his weapon which scared me more than the Detective actually having hers out and pointed in my general direction.
I threw my hands up like I was grabbing for the landing gear of the last copter out of Saigon. The other cop looked at Gary and said “Sir, you need to get your wife and get out of here right now.” Even with the strong possibility of death, I managed to be annoyed that they addressed him.
Gary looked over at me and then looked like he was going to burst out laughing. Instead, he took my hand and said “come on babe” and we went back to his car and drove away. Gary seemed perversely amused by what had just happened. He asked me what that was and I told him I had no idea.
It wasn’t true though. I think the detective is working her own angle and it caught up with her.