Chapter Two

One Big Joke

"Seriously, who steals a tiger - dress up in a clown costume - and hits the street in a car without air condition at a day like this?" Thorsen complained as they were still awaiting the tow truck.

Smitty scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "Do you have a sun blocker somewhere?"

Nolan and Celina drove by and waved with big smiles on their faces.

"Wow, did you see that?" Aaron said testily as he wiped his forehead and grabbed at the top of his bulletproof vest, trying to get some air between his undershirt and the vest.

"Never thought Nolan was that devious," Smitty remarked. "They could have stopped and handed us some water bottles."

They watched the police car continue down the street and disappear around a corner then jumped as a horn sounded behind them.

"Hey," the driver of the tow truck said. "Someone called for assistance."

"Yeah, like yesterday," Smitty replied sourly.

OOOOOO

Rookie Celina Juarez's eyebrows shot up in her hairline as she gulped water from the bottle while casting a glance in the rear-view mirror. She turned her head facing forward again with a frown, then closed her eyes and shook her head. She dared another glance in the rear-view mirror but the clown was still there.

"Huh, sir," she called on her training officer's attention. "I think Sergeant Bradford's clown is here."

Nolan looked up from the onboard police computer in the shop situated between them. "I am sorry, what?" he replied.

"The clown," she whispered. "He's loading something into the back of the delivery truck on the other side of the street."

Nolan glanced over his shoulder. "Why are you whispering?"

"I really don't know. Do you see it?" she asked curiously as she too turned around to look through the rear window.

"Yeah," Nolan confirmed. "I do see a clown but this one doesn't appear to be injured. It doesn't look like a tiger has taken a bite or two of his thigh."

Celina scrunched her face. "Another one then? What is this? Some kind of bad joke?"

"Whatever it is, I am getting curious," Nolan mused as he started the car. "Let's tag along at a distance and see where he is going."

OOOOOO

Lucy smiled brightly as she got back into the shop with two bottles of fresh water. She handed one to Tim who was seated behind the wheel. "Here you go," she said.

"Thanks," he said softly as he unscrewed the cap.

"Anything interesting happening out here while I was inside?" she asked curiously.

"Not really-," he gesticulated across the street, "-those two idiots tried their hands at shoplifting. Good old Nelly stormed out with a shotgun and scared them half to death."

She turned to her colleague. "And you never thought it would be a good idea to intervene?"

He took another sip of water before putting the cap back on. "Not really, Nelly smiled and gave me the thumbs up. She's got quite a reputation. No one messes with her."

"She's that old lady whom Smitty calls 'super-gran'," Lucy suddenly realized.

Bradford smiled fondly. "Yeah, she's always been running that store. It's going to be strange when she's gone."

"7-adam-100. Field supervisor requested at Lakeview 1503," dispatch said.

"7-adam-100 responding," Tim replied.

OOOOOO

Celina furrowed her brow as she strained her eyes to see better through the binoculars.

"What is he doing?" Nolan asked curiously.

"He's placing a package on the porch. Now he's turning around, heading back to his delivery truck. He didn't even knock on the door."

Nolan narrowed his eyes, looking suspiciously at the clown further up the street. "So, no signature required then," he surmised as he opened the car door and got out of the vehicle.

Celina followed suit and they both began to walk toward the house as the delivery truck turned around a corner.

"That is a real estate agent sign," she pointed out as they walked up the driveway.

"No wonder he didn't wait around for a signature then," Nolan muttered and frowned as another police car pulled up next to them. "Sir?" he, acknowledged in surprise as Tim and Lucy came up to them. "No offence but what are you doing here?"

"There was a special request at this address for a supervisor," Lucy replied.

Celina frowned, thinking it was strange for dispatch to make such a call since neither she nor Nolan had called ahead. Their last call had only confirmed their whereabouts and that they intended to check out a certain address.

"Not from us," Nolan replied curiously.

Tim and Lucy shared a curious look, Lucy's hand poised over the tilt of her weapon.

"Anything suspicious?" Bradford asked curtly.

"We followed a clown in a delivery truck here," Nolan replied sheepishly.

"Seriously?" Tim asked sarcastically.

"It got even weirder when he placed a package on the porch to what is clearly an empty house," Celina explained.

"Dispatch this is 7-Adam-17. Request Watch Commander Grey on site. A clown just dropped off a package with his name on it at West Olympic Boulevard 15."

The four of them shared a curious look.

"A lot of clowns on the streets today," Bradford remarked dryly.

"Did you find your pussycat, sir?" Celina called jovially.

Nolan stiffened at the look on Bradford's face. He had known Tim for a few years now and had come to respect and like the man as a friend - not just as a fair superior officer and colleague – and he knew when to back off.

"Not a good day, boot," the sergeant replied sourly.

Celina leaned closer to Lucy. "I think I just caught a glimpse of the illustrious training officer Bradford," she said with a smirk.

"He barks worse than he bites," Lucy replied in a subdued yet fond voice.

Ignoring the two of them, Tim took the lead, walking up the stairs to the frontside porch and knelt next to the package. He froze as he read the name on it. "We need to find out who requested our presence here," he asked seriously.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked as she followed his gaze. She felt a chill down her spine as she saw that the package was addressed to Sergeant Timothy Bradford, Mid-Wilshire Division.

Having learned the hard way - being drilled by Tim - Lucy knew what effect the radio had on explosive devices. She slowly, carefully stepped down and got a few feet away before keying her radio. "Dispatch this is 7-adam-100. Please name the officer request for a field supervisor at Lakeview 1503?"

"7-adam-100, please hold," the man at the other end said. "The request came from an LAFD officer. A Lieutenant Dyer. Send field supervisor from LAPD to Lakeview 1503-," Lucy stiffened, not really listening to the dispatcher as he continued to inform her.

"You think this is some kind of sick joke?" Nolan asked as Tim stood up and took a step away from the package.

"I am getting a foreboding feeling about this place," Celina said as she glanced up at the worn wooden façade.

Lucy called them over, looking rather distraught.

"What did they say?" Tim asked.

However, Lucy turned directly to Nolan. "Do you know if Bailey has a Lieutenant Dyer at her district?" she asked a bit anxiously.

John stiffened as he narrowed his eyes and glanced around the premises. "No. I don't think so. Why?"

Lucy turned directly to Tim. "Field supervisor was requested by a Lieutenant Dyer at the LAFD," she explained.

Bradford keyed his radio. "Dispatch this is 7-adam-100. I want the bomb squad at this location asap."

"She's not alone with that surname," Nolan pointed out kindly. "It might just be a crazy coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences and neither should you," Tim replied tight-lipped as he silently wondered why the package was carrying his name and not Nolan's if it really was someone keeping Rosalind's legacy alive.

OOOOOO

Sergeant Wade Grey pulled up at the entrance to the mall and got out. Police officer Thorsen followed suit, having been rescued from Smitty.

"Dispatch this is 7-Lincoln-19. Watch Commander Grey reporting from West Olympic Boulevard," he said. "Be advised, I have picked up officer Thorsen enroute, changing my callsign to 7-adam-19."

"7-adam-19, confirmed at location."

"Thanks for picking me up, sir," Thorsen said gratefully. "Riding with Smitty is-,"

Grey frowned.

"-interesting," the younger man finished.

"Usually, it is pretty uneventful," Grey replied.

They walked into the mall and was met by two officers who guided them to a small post office.

"Hello, sir. We've cleared out the surrounding stores. Lieutenant Hayden from the bomb disposal unit has given the package the all clear."

Grey frowned as he walked up to the counter and stared at a brown square box roughly about 20x20 centimeters. It was addressed to a Sergeant Wade Grey, Mid-Wilshire Division, LA. Next to the stamp was a handwritten note that said; "I am sorry, I couldn't deliver it straight to the station, but I am sure you appreciated the little excursion. Please open soon because you are running out of time."

"What is this? Some kind of bad joke?" Grey said to no one in particular.

One of the patrolmen made a face. "Well, sir, given that it was a clown who dropped it off-,"

Grey held up his hand to stop him. "Say no more."

A young man behind the counter handed him a pair of scissors to cut through the tape with which the sergeant graciously accepted.

Thorsen froze as the scissors cut through the wrapping, not sure what to expect.

Grey opened the box only to stare at himself displayed on a live feed on a digital tablet.

"I've always wanted an iPad," Grey muttered.

Aaron carefully moved forward to stand next to his commanding officer as the older man lifted the tablet out of the box and held it in his hand. They shared a foreboding feeling as the image of Grey shifted into a digital display that started to count down from 3 hours 5 minutes and 17 seconds.

"Huh," Thorsen said. "What happens at zero hour?"

"Not sure I want to know but I intend to find out." Grey replied seriously. "Let's get back to the station."

OOOOOO

To be continued