Chapter 3

Now, Russell handed him a smoothie and Chad accepted it gratefully. He had skipped breakfast, and the frosty treat looked and smelled delicious. He slid a five across the counter and told Russell to keep the change before he headed out the door, scanning the growing crowd. The parade wouldn’t start for about forty-five minutes, so he hoped they wouldn’t get too rowdy as they waited.

He chuckled at that thought. If he’d been back at his old precinct, he would have been worried about drugs, gang fights, guns, and looting. A little rowdy he could handle.

Some people shot him strange looks, but he was used to it. He knew he cut an imposing figure in his uniform. At six-foot-four, with broad shoulders and chest, large, muscular arms, a trim waist, and solid thighs, he was the epitome of strength. Years of hard work during the summers on his grandparent’s farm had helped him develop into a tower of strength.