Joyride by Anna Banks Page A

his seat, slumping even farther down. “Aren’t cops supposed to keep their eyes on the road?”
    Glass takes it in stride, bringing the car to a halt at a stop sign, then slowly turning right. Classic patrol driving. “You’re quiet tonight. Having girl problems? Thinking of that little Mexican girl?”
    â€œWhy does she gotta be Mexican?”
    â€œUh, because apparently her parents are Mexican?”
    â€œI mean, how do you know they’re not like Puerto Rican or something?”
    Glass shrugs. “So what if she is? So what if she isn’t? Is there something wrong with being Mexican?”
    According to the mighty Sheriff Moss, that’s a big unofficial yes. He might center his campaign around deporting undocumented immigrants, but the truth is, he doesn’t care if they’re documented or not. Glass knows it. Arden knows it. Sheriff Moss treats racial profiling like a hobby.
    And Arden knows Glass doesn’t feel the same way. So what Arden says next is unfair. “Why does she have to be anything? Why couldn’t you just say ‘short girl’ or ‘girl with the long eyelashes’? Who cares what race she is?”
    Glass grins wide, exposing a rarely seen dimple and the fact that he’s not as old as he looks in that nerdy uniform. If Arden had to guess, he’d say he’s only about twenty-four, maybe twenty-five years old. “Girl with the long eyelashes huh? That ‘short girl’ has Arden Moss squirming in his little ol’ panties, eh?”
    â€œIt’s not like that.” Arden turns to face his friend, feeling a deep scowl embedded into his expression. “I insulted her today by accident. And now she won’t talk to me about it. Not even to let me apologize.”
    Glass gives him a charitable shrug. “Your specialty is girls. You’ll figure it out.”
    â€œNot this one,” Arden grumbles, but Glass is turning up the radio. Dispatch issues a call for domestic violence. The address is close to them.
    Glass rolls his eyes. “Copy that,” he says into the mouthpiece on his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at Arden. “It’s Rose again, beating up on Henry. This’ll be her third offense so I’m going to have to take her down to the station. You want to come or you want me to drop you here?”
    Glass knows Arden hates coming to the station; there’s always the chance he’ll run into his father there. But tonight, he doesn’t want to be left alone with his own thoughts. Tonight, he could use some entertainment drummed up by someone else for a change. “I’ll come.”
    Glass nods and flips on the blue lights, which illuminate a hedge of rosebushes outside the window. People dread the sight of the flashing blue lights. Those lights may mean a hefty speeding ticket or possibly jail. That’s what they mean to Arden too. But there was a time when Arden loved them. It meant that his father had come home from work—back when his father was just a deputy. Back when Arden actually wanted his father to come home.
    He and Amber would sit and wait at the front window, waiting for Deputy Moss to arrive at the end of his shift. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, he would turn on the blue lights—which were actually blue and red back then—and Arden and his sister would squeal, “Daddy’s home!” and run to the door to greet him.
    Arden nearly laughs aloud at the idea of looking forward to seeing his father. They say kids can sense someone’s character. Arden guesses that doesn’t apply to one’s own dad. He never saw the real Dwayne Moss coming.
    They pull into the driveway of a familiar residence—the Walkers, starring Rose the Wife, Henry the Husband, and Caden the Toddler. Caden is outside on the walkway, happily holding on to Henry’s hand. Henry is a walking stick of a man, redheaded and freckle-faced, with disheveled hair