Cop Town by Karin Slaughter

ascertain that there was nothing in the back seat that an arrestee might find and use as a weapon. The flimsy chain-link fence was the only thing separating the front of the car from the back. A knife or even a sharpened plastic fork could be easily jammed through the diamond-shaped openings.
    Jimmy pulled on a pair of leather racing gloves as he watched her. “You gonna take all day?”
    Kate locked the back seat into place with her knee. “Ready.”
    He unclipped the transmitter from the back of his belt, then climbedbehind the wheel. He had to angle his leg because of his bum knee. When he shut the door, he gave Kate a challenging look, daring her to mention the injury.
    Kate unclipped her transmitter. She rested it in her lap as opposed to between her legs, as Jimmy had. “I’m sorry about your partner.”
    “Why? You didn’t know him.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Write this down, ’cause I ain’t gonna repeat it.” He put the gear in reverse, but didn’t move the car. “Where’s your notebook?”
    “In my—” She cut to the point. “In the locker room.”
    Jimmy slammed the gear back into park. “Go get it.”
    Kate felt her cheeks burning again. “It’s in somebody else’s locker.”
    “Motherfucker.”
    Kate flinched at the word. She didn’t know why. She’d certainly heard it before.
    Fortunately, Jimmy didn’t seem to notice her reaction. He leaned over and opened the glove box. Instinctively, Kate pulled away from him. He glared at her as he dropped a spare notebook on her lap. “First rule is, don’t leave your fucking notebook.”
    She flipped the cover open to a blank sheet, but she didn’t have anything to write with.
    “Christ.” Jimmy took a pen out of his pocket and threw it in her direction.
    Kate missed the pen. Of course she missed it. She leaned down to retrieve it from the floor just as he backed up the car. The brim of her hat slammed into the dash, sending a slash of pain across her forehead. Kate felt something close to a swoon. Her vision blurred. Her stomach curdled.
    Jimmy pulled out onto the road. “Write that down,” he said. “Never forget your notebook.”
    Kate sat up. She pushed her hat back on her head. She was still seeing pricks of stars, but she clicked the pen, started writing: Never forget your notebook . She felt like an idiot, but she looked to him for more.
    He said, “Rule number two: you type all the reports. I’m not here to do paperwork. That’s why you write down every single fucking thingthat happens. Mark the time, what the weather’s like, what people look like, how they sound—they crackers or hillbillies? Southside or West?” He paused, waiting for Kate to finish. At least that’s what she thought he was doing. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes never went above her chest.
    “Rule number three: I’m the boss of this car. I say where we go, when we stop, where we stop. If you gotta pee every ten minutes, you bring a cup to piss in. I don’t wanna hear about it. Got me?”
    Kate kept her head down, thinking if she just kept writing, the words wouldn’t matter.
    “Rule three, section A, I always drive, and you shut the hell up about it.”
    Kate didn’t have to write that one down.
    “Four: Ask. Tell. Make. You ask somebody to do something. They don’t do it, you tell them to do it. They still don’t do it, you make them do it.”
    Her hand was cramping. She could barely keep up.
    “Number five: forget rule number four. It don’t matter. You’re not talking to anybody. You’re not looking at anybody. You stay in the car when I get out and you still be in the car when I get back in.”
    Kate looked up. This was the exact opposite of what they told her during her training. You never left your partner’s side. Even Jimmy’s own uncle had said as much during roll call.
    Jimmy seemed to read her mind. “I don’t care what they taught you. There’s different rules for men and women. You go out into the