~ Captain Marvelous ~

by

Kate Henry Doran

There was something familiar about the trooper’s stride as he approached the Mustang. His carriage was too perfect. She muttered something pithy after he pushed his knuckles on the trunk of the car, then slapped the silver posse box against his thigh.

"Do you know why I stopped you, ma’am?"

Because he was standing behind her and at an angle, Annie was forced to crane her neck to look up at him. "Trooper Marvelic, what a surprise."

"License, registration, and proof of insurance, ma’am."

She passed over the forms without comment.

"I repeat, ma’am. Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Not... exactly."

He gave the passengers a solemn nod. "I’ll ask all of you for your names and dates of birth, please."

After writing the information down, he strutted back to the unit to radio in the information. Annie knew he was checking for wants and warrants on all of them.

In the same straight-legged, tight-assed gait, he returned to the Mustang. "Step out of the car, ma’am. Please."

She complied, but not before making a big deal out of handing the keys to John, ensuring the cell phone was still turned on, and checking the back seat passengers for bats and helmets. If she was going for the gold, she’d go all the way.

"One hint of trouble, you guys book out of here," she said, strictly for Marvelic’s interest. "Keep the phone in your hand," she told the outfielder. "Call 911. They won’t send anyone, but they have to record every call. The rest of you make sure you’ve got your bats ready."

Latimer unbuckled his seatbelt. "I’m coming with you."

She felt compelled to squash the martyr-for-the-faith look on the old man’s face. "Stay there. Anything, I mean any thing starts smelling funky, take off."

The good doctor agreed, grudgingly. "Whatever you say."

Marvelic escorted her down the shoulder of the road, past the trooper unit, positioning himself with the sun at his back. Annie figured it was to maintain a clear view of her, her car, and its passengers. "That was somewhat excessive, don’t you think?"

She glanced into the mirrored shades covering his eyes and wished she’d kept hers on. "The speed or the precautions?"

"Both." He removed the sunglasses, hanging them from the breast pocket of his shirt. "I’ll have to ticket you."

Avoiding the effect of his eyes was next to impossible. Any number of things showed in those big green pools. Purpose. Frustration. Humor. "Look, Marvelic, I admit I was speeding. Give me the ticket; I’ll be on my way."

He checked his watch. "Looks like Ronaldo will have to start without you."

"He’ll survive. So will I."

Marvelic blinked once before continuing to check off the tiny boxes on the ticket pad. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

It meant, for reasons she didn’t care to examine, that she trusted him. Maybe not the rest of the cops in town, but Ronen was different. Perhaps it was the sensitivity he’d displayed for the dead women, or the understanding in his face when he looked at his son, or the respect he always paid Stella Grover.

"Look, Trooper Marvelic, I--"

"It’s Captain."

Several seconds passed before his response sank in.

Yessir, she always went for the gold. "You’re a captain?"

The impressive chest pumped out a few inches, his posture went a tad straighter. "Going on two years now."

"Captain Marvelic," she said slowly, stretching out the syllables. The expected tie-in followed. "Captain Marvel," she croaked, then doubled over in helpless, gut-busting laughter.

"Exceeding the speed limit by fifteen miles an hour," he said through clenched jaws, "is hardly a laughing matter."

"Fifteen. Is that all?" she squeaked. "I’ll be damned."

"Better than dead." Marvelic handed her the ticket, tipped his hat, offering her a professional, by-the-book nod before striding toward the unit. "See you in court, Ms. Wolfe."

"In your dreams, Captain."

He glanced over his shoulder one more time before tipping the brim of his hat. "Every night for the past week. Ma’am."