Not to the Swift

Chapter 9

Chris Mason sat on the hood of the cruiser, head in his hands, eyes staring at the scene through his fingertips. What have I done?

The paramedics hoisted Kazsinski into the second ambulance on a stretcher—his wounds were serious, but he would live. The first ambulance sped off with the teenager's body minutes before, a team of medics trying to revive and stabilize him enroute to Our Mother of Mercy's emergency department.

Chris had asked them what the kid's chances were, but he never got a solid answer. Just ashen faces and downcast glances.

One officer cordoned off the scene, repeatedly asking a small crowd of civilians to back up. Mason heard snippets of their protests.

"Saw a kid get carried off. I think it was a kid."

"What you all gonna do about the Kings?"

"—thirty or forty shots, then some car tore off down Nelson—"

Officer Bridges strolled over from where two others took notes and photos of the scene. A woman with long auburn hair in a crisp tailored suit—detective maybe? Internal Affairs?—argued with the officers searching the black sedan Kaz had used for cover.

"Hey kid," Bridges said, putting a hand on Mason's shoulder. "We'll get all this sorted out, but we need your description while it's fresh. Walk me through what happened."

Chris stood and took a deep breath. "We heard the call, and we were at about Sixteenth and Quintana. Kaz pulled up here, lights and siren on full..."

An officer snapped photos when Chris pointed out places where gunmen fired or fell. He got a picture of the interior of Cruiser Seventeen, with Mason's body camera and radio transceiver tossed to the floorboards. Bridges raised an eyebrow. "And why was it you took off your body cam?"

Chris swallowed hard.

Oh Lord, there's not going to be a record of what I saw, nothing to justify why I fired. "It snagged on the doorframe, and then it was swinging around loose, rattling each time I moved. It was a distraction, so I tore it off and got back to the fight. I was worried about Kaz at that point." And staying alive.

"Hey, Franks," Bridges said to one of the other officers. "Make sure they archive the footage from Kaz and Mason's cameras. Also the dashcam from Seventeen."

Franks nodded and texted HQ.

Bridges turned back to Mason. "Talk me through how the kid got shot."

The woman in the suit strode up to Chris. "Actually, don't do that."

Bridges cursed under his breath. "Come on, Rodriguez. Can't I just finish the paperwork?"

"Officer Mason, Candida Rodriguez." She extended a handshake. "I represent the Legal Affairs branch of the Office of Chief of Police. You're done talking if you've got any sense."

"What do you mean?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Look at the scene, think about what happened, and tell me this isn't going to get sorted out in a courtroom with you as the defendant. Tell me you don't think that inside that room under the eye of a grand jury you'll hear every word you say to Bridges now, twisted around and fired back at you to make you a villain."

Chris shook his head. Maybe I am one. "Look, I just want to do what I can to make things right. I shot a kid with a cellphone. I can't lie about that."

Bridges jotted notes on a pad.

"Mason, shut your stupid mouth," Rodriguez hissed. "Bridges, this mockery of a deposition is over."