Running Hot by Jacob long (the lemonade war series .txt) 📕

Reed used the time he bought to scurry around the car and hide next to the van. When Steve came back out brandishing the shotgun, Reed kicked the door closed as hard as he could. The door slammed into Steve’s face, causing him to fall back into the van. When the door bounced back open, Reed hopped into view and pumped the rest of his pistol bullets into the man’s chest.
With the last of the robbers dead, Reed glanced over at the two cops; who were still fighting. Then he heaved himself into the van muttering in a satirical black slave accent. “Yessah, Uncle Sam. I’sa take your money if you ain’t got a use fo’ it no mo’.”
With that out of the way, he began transporting the bags into the 442’s trunk; which he had parked around the corner.
After a while of struggling for control of the gun, Nitch finally swung his head to the side and hit Matt in the eye. Matt didn’t let go of the gun; he simply did it back.
On his way back to grab two more bags of cash, Reed looked back at them and shook his head. He said, “Geez, bite him if you have to!” not really talking to either of them in particular.
Matt had apparently heard him. In that moment he lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Nitch’s right hand. Nitch screamed in agony and let go of the gun. It dropped to the pavement. Matt released him and Nitch immediately sprang for the gun again. Matt jumped on top of him and pushed him away. Nitch adjusted and pushed back; being the stronger man, Nitch easily pushed Matt back up onto the sidewalk and into a pole.
Matt uttered a scream of his own and punched Nitch in the ribs. Nitch showed no real reaction to the blow and punched Matt hard across the face. Matt turned halfway around from the force and fell face first to the sidewalk. A small spatter of blood spit out of his mouth. Nitch growled and went in pursuit. Matt kicked backward like a mule and hit him in the stomach. As Nitch hesitated to hold the area; in which case Matt rolled over and wrapped his legs around Nitch’s ankle. He twisted his body hard; throwing Nitch face-first to the ground. Matt immediately jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around his neck; squeezing in a sleeper hold. Nitch struggled to his feet; then threw himself backward onto the ground. Matt struck the cement with a considerable amount of force and he couldn’t manage to hold on. He screamed in agony as his back and head slapped against the concrete sidewalk.
Nitch jumped to his feet and began kicking Brice in the ribs. Matt grabbed the swinging foot and hugged himself against it. Nitch tried to tear the legs free but he only lost his balance and fell on his back again. Matt was done with this. Deleriously, he dove off the sidewalk and reached for his gun. Nitch saw his gun sitting on the ground not too far away from him and he snatched it up. Matt’s diving was physically taxing, but much faster. He nimbly spun around on the ground and aimed his gun at Nitch. Nitch raised his gun to fire at Matt and Matt fired numerous bullets into his chest. Nitch shuddered and fell up against the street pole; his gun flinging into the air. An expression of pain was frozen on his face.
Matt didn’t take the gun off him for a long while. His breathing was so erratic he was shivering. Finally Matt snapped back to reality and he twisted his neck to look back at the armored van. Reed Newton was nowhere to be seen.
Painstakingly, Matt grimaced and pushed himself to his feet. He jogged over to the van and peered inside. To his surprise, a lot of the money was still in place. It seemed Newton had an attack of conscience.
A single dollar bill was resting peacefully on the lip of the back end. It appeared to have a bunch of scribbling on it, Matt picked it up. A short note was penned over George Washington’s face it read:

To the victor,
I have left some money for you to dispense at your discretion. Whether you consider yourself a force of good or evil, I hope you will extend me the same courtesy by not pursuing me any further.
Matt crushed the bill in his hand; looking up to the sky. “You know there’s no way I’m gonna do that.”

East Brunswick, New Jersey>>> 64 miles north of Camden

An hour and a half had passed since the rest of the gang had left Reed at the D.A.’s house. They hadn’t even seen a cop car the whole time, until one sped up right behind them and flashed his lights. Angela pulled over and stopped.
“Alright you guys,” she said. “Just play it cool; We show him the evidence and he leaves us alone.” Angela sounded more sure than she was.
The cop got out of the car and limped up to theirs. He appeared to be sporting a bullet wound on his left leg.
As he came up to the side of the car Angela turned and said. “Yeah, I know; the damage. It’s actually kind of a funny story.”
When she turned to him she was confronted by the barrel of a gun!
“I think I’ve heard this one before,” Smith said coldly.
“Who the hell are you, now?” Devlin asked.
“Shut up and step out of the car!” Smith demanded.
Angela opened the door and got out; grabbing her purse.
“Leave that!” Smith continued to yell.
Angela grimaced and did as she was told. The other two got out of the car as well.
“Get in the car!” Smith motioned toward the cop car with a flick of his gun.
The gang obediently walked to the police vehicle. Devlin opened the back door and they all piled in. With the gang incarcerated, Smith holstered his weapon and picked up the file containing the evidence. He flicked out his lighter and set it on fire.
“Damn it,” Angela breathed. “Reed gives us one job and we can’t even do that.”
Smith threw the burning document onto the road and got in the front of the cop car.
“Where are you going to take us?” Devlin asked.
Smith didn’t answer. He just pulled a very illegal U-turn on the freeway and started driving.
“Who are you?” Devlin persisted.
“Shut up boy!” Smith barked in response.
Laurel finally stopped hanging her head and said, “He’s Frederick Smith; one of the conspirators in the plot to steal the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund. Only now we can’t prove it.”
“Are you going to kill us?” Angela asked bluntly.
Smith scoffed. “No, you’re going to the police station to be arrested for aiding the escaped convict, Reed Newton.”
After a moment of consideration, Angela leaned forward and whispered in Smith’s ear. “Reed killed your friends. They’re all dead and Reed has the money.”
Smith swung his right hand back and smacked the barricade angrily.
Angela smiled and sat back.
Another hour later the gang arrived back at the police station. Smith got out and opened the back door. “Get out!” he ordered.
The three friends got out of the car and walked solemnly up to the door. Angela opened it and they all went inside.
Smith entered last with a triumphant announcement. “Alright boys! You’re looking at the man who brought Reed Newton’s accomplices to justice!”
In that moment every cop in the station whipped out their guns and pointed them at him.
“We’ve been looking for you, Smith.” Matthew Brice sat at a desk in the middle of the room.
“What the hell is this, Brice?” Smith asked angrily.
Matt deliberately grabbed a pile of papers off of the desk and waved them for him to see. It was the evidence compiled by David Jacobs. Smith’s picture resting right on the top.
11)
“People are strange, when you’re a stranger…”

The New Jersey Police Station Interrogation Room
3:45 pm

Matt conducted the interrogations of Angela Cook, Laurel Jacobs, and Kevin Devlin personally with one question being the main focus: “Where is Reed Newton?” He received varying answers.
Devlin: “Who’s that?”
Laurel: “He’s probably out of the country by now. I really didn’t know him.”
Angela: “Nunya.”
Matt was intrigued by Angela’s answer, “But you do know?”
“Am I going to get a lawyer anytime soon? I know my rights.” Angela leaned forward/.“Which were never read to me by the way.”
Matt heaved a sigh. He would have to throw that partial admission out because no one had read her rights to her. To be realistic, he wasn’t surprised in all the confusion, so he recited to her the Miranda Rights he’d taken such great pains to memorize in his earlier years.
“There,” he continued. “Now will you answer?”
“I want my lawyer,” Angela repeated stoutly.
Matt stood completely upright. “Forget the lawyer. I’m going to turn you guys loose. But I want you to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” Angela said in mock cheer.
Matt bent down; bringing his face real close to hers, and speaking in a low voice so the microphone couldn’t hear. “The next time you see Newton, give him this.” He placed the dollar bill on the table. “And tell him there’s nowhere he can run. I’ll find him.”
Angela began to protest, “But I don’t-.”
“Don’t give me that!” he barked, yet still managing to maintain the whisper. “You just tell him.”
“Alright,” Angela answered, her voice subconsciously dropping to his level. “If I see him, I’ll be sure to tell him.”
“Good. Go.” Matt motioned to the door with his head.
Angela stood timidly and walked to the door. Before she left she turned her head to Matt and said, “Call me sometime, Detective Brice.”
Brice didn’t respond to her proposal. He just stood there; pretending to still be fuming while on the inside he knew the statement had made his day.
Devlin and Laurel were waiting outside when Angela came out.
“He’s letting us go,” Angela told them.
Devlin nodded. “We know.”
The gang began walking down the hall toward the exit. Approaching from the other end of the hall, already in his prison orange, was Smith; accompanied by a guard. His hands and feet were chained together.
The gang smiled simultaneously as they approached.
While passing by, Devlin muttered, “Don’t drop the soap… boy.”
Smith’s response was a swift and violent snap at Devlin with his teeth. Devlin dodged away; fully expecting him to do something. The guard used his nightstick to hit Smith in the thigh, which caused Smith to fall to one knee; and then on the shoulder, which knocked him to the floor. The guard didn’t stop there either. Smith had insulted the guard before with a rude comment about his wife and he was going to make sure he didn’t get any more trouble out of him.
The gang laughed at the sight and continued out the door. Now that they were in the parking lot Angela asked Laurel, “So what will you do now?”
Laurel shrugged. “I don’t know. My whole life was in my house and they burned that down.”
“We’ll send you some money so you can get back on your feet again.” Angela put her hand on Laurel’s shoulder.
Laurel shook her head. “Oh no; you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” Angela rebutted.
Laurel smiled in appreciation; a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Angela pulled Laurel toward her and they hugged.
Angela kissed her on the cheek. “Ohh, I’m going to miss you.”
“And I’m going to miss you,” Laurel replied. “How are you getting home?”
“We’re taking