White Space Season 1

suspect around the city. I should’ve known it was you. What the hell are you doing here?”
    “Nice to see you, too,” Houser said, pointing toward his gun and phone. “May I?”
    “Yeah,” Chan nodded.
    Chan and Houser came up through the academy together, working for the Ocean County Sheriff’s Office. Chan was one of the few guys Houser didn’t piss off during his tenure. Last he and Chan talked was about a year back, when Chan contacted Houser about a cheating spouse case Houser had been working that turned ugly.
    The other cop, a short woman with auburn hair in a short ponytail and thick horn-rimmed glasses, cuffed Ski Mask as Chan grinned and shook Houser’s hand. “So, what, you were bored and figured you’d swing by and help us out?”
    “Something like that,” Houser said as he holstered his gun and clicked “end” on the phone, now that he didn’t need a recording in case shit went south and he got shot. “I was working a slip and fall case and saw this dumbass sneaking around in broad fucking daylight with a ski mask and crowbar, breaking into a house.”
    Chan’s partner pulled the ski mask off, revealing a pale teenage kid with a lip ring and a bad case of acne. His hair was bleached white, making his fuzzy dark eyebrows look like angry caterpillars.
    “Wow, he is one ugly motherfucker,” Houser said.
    “That asshole chased me down! I didn’t do shit,” Ski Mask said, his face twisted and red.
    Chan’s partner said, “Yeah, yeah, tell the judge,” yanking Ski Mask off his knees and leading him past them and to the back of the squad car.
    “That’s Sgt. Vickers,” Chan said. “You two would get along great; she’s a charmer.”
    “Yeah, I can tell,” Houser said, grinning. “I wish I had a partner that cool back in the day. Anyway, I’ve got video if you wanna see.”
    “Wow, you must be really bored. I’m surprised you didn’t apprehend him, too.” Chan said following Houser back to his car.
    “Well, I was trying. But then you all roll up like the heroes, after I did all the work.”
    “You ever think about coming back? It’s a lot different here than OC.”
    “Yeah?” Houser asked, “You guys making money now?”
    “What do you think?”
    “Then I think you know my answer,” Houser said. “Besides, you know I don’t play well with others. Can’t stand the politics. You call me when you make Chief, maybe we’ll talk.”
    “I didn’t say I wanna be your boss. I don’t need the headache,” Chan joked.
    Houser opened his car and pulled out the video camera, then hit rewind. He let the tape go back a bit farther than he meant, and the video screen showed a cop in a dark alley with a prostitute blowing him.
    “Woah!” Chan said, “What the hell is that? Your home movies?”
    “Woops, didn’t realize I still had that in there.”
    “Who is that?” Chan asked.
    “Some asshole traffic cop in New Mexico who made it his mission to pull me over every goddamned day I was there during the summer.”
    “New Mexico? What you doing over there?”
    “I go all over, man. One of the perks of working for myself. Anyway, dude kept pulling me over, saying I was going way faster than I was, giving me tickets and shit. I had enough tickets to line a litter box. Not sure why he had such a hard-on for me, so after I wrapped up business, I decided to dig into his life.”
    “Ah,” Chan said, smiling wide. “Obviously he hadn’t heard about your infamous exploits with OCSO.”
    “Yeah, right? Anyway, fucker was up to all kinds of fun stuff. First, I was just looking to prove he wasn’t even using the radar correctly, which he wasn’t. Then ding-ding bonus, I caught him doing a whole heap of unsavory shit. I decided to fight the tickets, and sent a copy of this video to the local news anchor the day before. Needless to say, he didn’t show in court.”
    Houser fast forwarded the tape to show the burglar.
    “Remind me not to piss you off,” Chan said, shaking his head, still smiling.
    “Like I said, I don’t play well with others,” Houser said as he returned to his car.

    * *

    Houser returned to Benedict’s house to find, big fat surprise, the guy was still home.
    After another two hours of sitting in front of the house, Houser found himself reliving the rush of the earlier chase, then surprising himself by pondering Chan’s offer. He wasn’t sure if Chan was being polite or if they really needed cops, but Las Orillas seemed like a decent enough