Home Invasion - J. A. Johnstone [45]
The blonde’s face turned cold. “Of course, I understand that, young man. I’m well aware of the tragedy that happened here.”
“Then you ought to understand what a tragedy it is that Pete McNamara’s being blamed for something that’s not his fault at all. At least, you would if you weren’t a moron.”
The cameraman lowered his camera and said, “Don’t worry, Stacy, that didn’t go out on a live feed. We can edit it. “ He glared at Jack. “And you, kid, you’d better watch your mouth.”
“Why don’t you make him?” Rowdy demanded, stepping forward. “Or even better, why don’t you tell me what to do, mister?”
The man sneered as he lifted his camera again. “You can’t touch me, punk. I’m protected by freedom of the press. Ever heard of it, you dumb hick?” “Freedom of the press this, you Yankee mother—” “Rowdy, no!” Jack yelled as his friend lunged at the cameraman, swinging a punch.
It was too late. Rowdy was an offensive tackle and plenty of size and strength were behind the blow. It landed on the side of the cameraman’s head and knocked him sprawling as the blond reporter screamed. The cameraman managed to hang on to the piece of expensive equipment.
The blonde had screamed, but she had also whipped out a cell phone and was recording video on it even as Rowdy started after the fallen cameraman, obviously intent on stomping him. Jack grabbed his friend’s arm and tried to hold him back.
“Rowdy, you’re just doing what they want,” Jack said urgently, trying to get through the anger Rowdy was feeling. “Let it go.”
“Too late,” Steve said. “Here come some more guys, and they don’t look happy.”
Jack turned his head and saw several men jumping out of the back of a nearby truck that belonged to one of the cable news networks. The fleeting thought that they were awfully big and burly for audio and video technicians had time to cross his mind, and then José and the other guys whooped in excitement and lunged forward to meet the rush. Shouts filled the air as fists began to fly, and like ripples emanating outward from a rock tossed in a pond, the trouble started to spread through the crowd.
Yeah, it was all hitting the fan, Jack thought, and he was right in the middle of it.
His mom was gonna be royally pissed.
CHAPTER 21
Alex was circulating through the crowd in front of the hardware store, trying to calm them down, when she heard the commotion break out down the street. She had to lift herself on her toes and crane her neck to see what was going on. All she could tell was that there was some sort of fight in the supermarket parking lot.
She bit back a curse. This was exactly the sort of thing she had been worried was going to happen.
As she started pushing through the crowd, hurrying toward the disturbance, she keyed the mike on her shoulder and said, “Supermarket, now!” sending out a call to all the other officers to meet her there unless they were already involved in some other incident.
She wasn’t the only one whose attention the fight had attracted. Quite a few people began streaming in that direction, and some of them even yelled, “Fight, fight!” just like they were on a junior high school playground.
When Alex got closer, her heart plummeted for a second as she recognized Rowdy Donovan in the middle of the brawl. If Rowdy was involved, there was a good chance Jack was, too.
A second later, her fear for her son was mitigated somewhat by her anger at him. He knew better than to get mixed up in something like this, she thought.
So much for believing he would go home after football practice and do his homework.
A part of Alex wished she could pull the 9mm from the holster on her hip and blast a few shots into the air. That would settle things down in a hurry. Those Old West lawmen in books and movies had some advantages the modern police didn’t. Right now Alex wouldn’t have minded having a.45-caliber Peacemaker and a double-barreled shotgun.
Instead she settled for raising her voice and shouting,