Do or Die

Hoping in Kirk's van, Jerry speeds away. Jeff follows behind him. The detectives have been hunting these two for months and are ready to end the chase.

They're going down today," Jerry thinks. Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, he zips down the road. Dust flies all around them as they head towards the chase. Coughing, Jerry rolls up the windows and presses the gas down more. Jeff does the same.

The detectives arrive to find what looks to be a fleet of officers following a rusty pickup down the rugged dirt path. Cruisers are coming from their right and a few more on their left. Neither will get to them in time. "You're not getting away again." Shoving the Land Rover into high gear, Jerry punches the gas.

The officers in pursuit look over to find an officer is zipping past. He then sees Berryville Forensics posted on the side of the black S.U.V. Chuckling; Mike glances at his partner and says, "That's one determined S.O.B."

Nodding, his partner says, ``I heard they've been trying to catch these two for months."

"Now I understand." Mike chuckles, recalling a few of the trying cases he's worked on. Every cop seems to have one or two that haunts them until their dying day.

Putting a death grip on the steering wheel, Jerry pushes the pedal to the floor. The speedometer jumps to 150. He squeezes past the cruisers approaching on his right. That was close, he thinks. Jerry looks over to see the rusty pickup is a few feet ahead. Easing off the gas, The detective slides behind the fugitive's car. "This is going to end right here, right now." Reaching over, Jerry presses a button on the dash. The metal arm attached to the front of the vehicle drops down. Jerry moves the van to where he is bumper to bumper with the women's car. The bright yellow cord attached to the retractable arm wraps itself around the fugitive's rear tire. Jerry falls back, increasing the tension between the cable and the component. The rusty vehicle stops. He sees their tires spin, but they're unable to go anywhere.

Unholstering his gun Jerry springs out of the car. Ducking behind his door, he yells, "Driver, step out of the car, nice and slow hands in the air." Jerry waits a few seconds and then tries again."Do it now," he adds.

The truck doors open. A tall black woman darts across the field.

You would have to make this fat boy run, Jerry thinks. Holstering his gun, he gives chase.

Jackie glances over her shoulder to find a hefty officer behind her. I can outrun old chubbs. She thinks, smiling to herself. Jackie has lost over fifty pounds since she and Granny started this escapade. Jackie figures she probably would have lost more if Granny hadn't insisted she give up cigarettes. For the first month or so, all Jackie wanted to do was eat. Overall, Jackie feels better and healthier than she has in years.

Reaching his mark, Jerry stops. "Take it away, boys." He smiles, glancing toward the top of the hill. Several cruisers zip down the grassy path. He sees two more moving in from either side. Now for the icing on the cake, he thinks, still trying to catch his breath.

Jackie looks around to find she has cops coming at her from all sides. Some on foot and others in cars. Hearing dogs bark, she turns to find three large canines racing down the hill. She looks back to see the hefty cop giving chase, smiling as he heads her way. "He ran me into a trap."

It's been six months since the women's trial. The town was delighted to hear they were each given life sentences without a possible chance of parole. With the killers behind bars, the quaint village can finally return to its sleepy little self again.

Jerry is getting used to his new position as the sergeant.

The transition was easier for Joe since he has unofficially been taking over the captain duties for the better part of the year since Murphy's wife became deathly Ill. Joe's bigger adjustment is trying to settle in at home now the love of his life is by his side full time.

Rachel is doing her best to get rid of some more of Joe's hideous things, secretly, of course. See, the agreement was both would store a few of his belongings in the basement since the apartment isn't nearly big enough to house all of their stuff. Joe has a few lovely pieces, but the things he decides to keep out are nothing more than dust-collecting eyesores. Old relics from yesteryear, he claims

My great grandfather's yesteryear, Rachel thinks. Turning off the lights, she sighs. She's never been a big fan of clutter. Her stepmother used to say a place for everything and everything in its place, and she wholeheartedly agreed. One of these days, I'll get the place to look like a home instead of a flea market reject bin.

She glances at her childhood sweetheart and feels her heart melt. Being with him is worth putting up with this mess, I guess. Rachel has been dreaming about them being an item for years. Plopping down on the couch, she cuddles up to her man.

"This is the best part of my day, Joe says, wrapping his muscular arm around her.

"Mine too, she thinks, snuggling in closer. The theme song from Law and Order begins. Joe turns towards her and says, "You remind me of Captain Benson in many ways."

Smiling, she looks up and asks, "How's that?"

"The way you're always looking out for the victim, doing what's best for them."

"That's my job."

"Yeah, but you always take it a step further, go above and beyond the call of duty. If a victim were to call right now, you'd probably race right out to help."

"Not in my jammies, I wouldn't."

Joe laughs. "You know what I mean."

She chuckles. "Yeah, I know, and I probably would."

"To think I tried to talk you out of becoming a detective."

Rachel laughs. "There was never a chance of that."

"There's not much chance of talking you out of anything once you have your mind made up."

Rachel pokes him in the chest and says, "Don't you ever forget it, mister.

Joe recalls butting heads with her dad, the Berryville DA, numerous times. "How can I ever forget how stubborn you Webbs can be?"

"What was that?"

"If I remember correctly, your words to me were, "I'm not going to stop asking until you give in."

Rachel slaps his arm. "I don't sound like that."

Laughing, he kisses her cheek. "I love you, honey."

"It worked. Didn't it? Me asking every day."

Several times a day, Joe thinks. "I only agreed because you were driving me nuts."

"That's a short drive."

"What was that?"

Smiling, Rachel kisses his cheek. "Love you too."

"That's not what you said."

Rachel points to the T.V. "Shh. Our show is back on." She's reaching for the bowl of popcorn when a breaking news warning flashes across the screen. An anchorman replaces the bright red page. A warning scrolls across the bottom as the announcer says,

"This just in; two fugitives escaped police custody while being transported to the Arkansas State Correctional Facility." The fugitive's pictures flash across their screen.

"Oh my God, Joe, it's them."

"No," Joe yells, springing off the couch.

Victim after victim flashes through their minds as they stare at the screen.

The commentator continues. "The fugitives were convicted for killing over two dozen people. If you see the suspects, do not approach. You should seek safety immediately and then call your local authorities."

The remote falls out of Joe's hand. He turns toward Rachel and says, "It looks like our murdering spree is starting again."