Eli Gentry and Tom Barber went to the police academy together. This story took place when they were rookie patrolmen.
The squad car radio crackled. Robbery at the local liquor emporium.
Sammy’s Sip & Save is one of those places where a hardworking man gets booze in a neighborhood where its neon sign is a cultural landmark.
Dispatcher says reported shots fired. Suspect fled. Eli Gentry perked up and answered back that he was on his way.
“Finally, some action,” he thinks.
He had just finished a call with a homeowner about some kids playing mailbox baseball. It was the first Saturday of summer after school let out. Of course teenagers are gonna act up.
Chasing real criminals. That got him ignited.
Eli rolled up to the liquor store. Lights on. No siren. He was nursing a hangover.
The owner, Sammy, was standing in front of the counter, hyperventilating and holding a baseball bat.
“Kid just came in here and said he wanted a bottle of top shelf vodka. I got it and when I turned back around, he’s got a .38 pointed at me. Then he says to open the register and give him the cash. Typical s**t, you know?”
Right then, Eli’s fellow officer Tom Barber walked in. Eli vaguely filled him in as best he could.
“Hold on,” Tom said mildly annoyed as he reached into his left breast pocket to get his pen and notepad. “Alright, Sammy. Let’s start at the beginning,”. Tom gets the details of what the suspect looked like and other pertinent information to put the puzzle together.
Eli goes to the hotdog grill, serves himself and thinks about the vodka. Sammy tells them that the kid took the loot and took off on foot.
While Tom was asking Sammy to see the surveillance tape, Eli, under the guise of ‘securing the perimeter’ stepped out the back door to sneak a cigarette.
In the back corner of the parking lot, he spots a familiar Honda Prelude, near an alley, parked behind a dumpster.
Inside, there’s a ski mask, a pile of cash, and a bottle of Grey Goose with a Sip & Save price tag. The driver is nowhere to be found.
Eli’s about to call it in when it dawns on him. Car belongs to his neighbor Jimmy, a deadbeat who had crashed on Eli’s couch a few times. Promised to “get straight” for months. Jimmy’s no mastermind, but Eli knows his family, and he’s got a soft spot for local screw-ups.
Tom, meanwhile, tries to watch a security tape that’s so grainy and worn he can’t make out anything. It looked like Sammy had been using the same tape since Obama’s first term.
Eli walks back into the store. An exasperated Tom is walking out of Sammy’s office and looks at Eli and notices the look on his face. Tom had seen Eli’s shifty look before, usually when he “forgets” to tip the waitress for the free coffee they get at the diner.
Tom corners Eli. “Find something? What’d you see?”
Eli takes Tom around back and points out the Prelude. Eli mentioned Jimmy and Tom put two and two together.
“Your idiot neighbor kid, huh?” Tom asked, lighting a cigarette of his own.
Eli nods sheepishly, looking like a kid that got caught throwing rocks at traffic.
They both know if they bust Jimmy, Eli’s neighborhood drama hits the fan.
Eli doesn’t want to turn Jimmy in. Just as Tom said something about the correct procedure, Eli reminded him about that time Tom “borrowed” evidence room weed for a weekend with a local professional.
So, they agree to push the Prelude down the alley, wipe their prints, and tell Sammy the robber got away clean.
Sammy’s got no proof, anyway. Taught him to update his security system.
Back at the station, they file a report so vague it could’ve been written by someone with a concussion and now Eli and Tom got enough dirt on each other that they can teach a masterclass in mutual blackmail.
Eli let Jimmy know he owed them big. They both downed shots of vodka in acknowledgment of Jimmy’s renewed dedication to the path of the straight and narrow.
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