Chapter 64: Good Things Come in Pairs

Jimmy had been cooped up at home for two weeks, with almost no activities other than a few trips out to buy groceries. Finally, he received a call from the police department notifying him to return to work.

Jimmy carefully tidied up his clothes and his car, placed the homemade single-bucket beacon light inside the vehicle, and drove to the station.

Kag had not yet left for patrol; he was waiting for Jimmy's beacon. Upon seeing the compact single-bucket light, Kag was pleasantly surprised. The existing police beacons of the era were still the old-fashioned mechanical base rotating type—bulky and heavy. In contrast, Jimmy's new beacon was only the size of a palm, shaped like a cylindrical column with a suction cup at the bottom. A switch was built into the suction cup, which connected to a power cord. As long as the beacon was plugged into the car's power outlet, it was ready for immediate use.

Kag tested it on his own patrol car. Although it was daytime and the brightness was not fully apparent, it looked vastly superior to the original equipment. Having looked at old-style beacons for decades, Kag instantly fell in love with this new design.

"Nice work, Jimmy. I like this light. Leave it on my car; I'll test it out for a couple of days."

"Okay, but this beacon is designed as a portable light for unmarked cars. Doesn't it look a bit out of place on a marked cruiser?" Jimmy looked at Kag's patrol car, which already featured a long light bar on top, paired with the newly added single-bucket cylindrical light. The smaller single-bucket light sitting beside the large bar looked rather awkward from any angle.

"Don't you worry about that. I'm heading out on patrol. Go get your gear."

Kag summarily dismissed Jimmy's opinion and drove the patrol car out of the parking lot.

Jimmy didn't mind. After all, the ugly setup wasn't on his own vehicle. He went inside to change into his uniform, drew his equipment, and drove his own cruiser out on patrol.

After rotting at home for two weeks, Jimmy suddenly found that highway patrol was not entirely unacceptable and even felt slightly exhilarating. He wondered which unlucky soul would cross paths with him today.

His first target was spotted shortly after, though it wasn't warranting a ticket: only the right brake light was working. Jimmy trailed the vehicle, activated his lights, pulled the driver over to issue a verbal warning, and returned to his car.

Police authority in the past was remarkably broad. While modern officers are required to wear body cameras and avoid procedural deviations to steer clear of complaints, back around the year 2000, policing relied largely on self-discipline. Instances of officers picking a random excuse to harass someone just because they didn't like their face—often resulting in a beating and immediate arrest upon the slightest resistance—were simply too common.

An officer like Jimmy, experiencing a mild adrenaline rush and pulling someone over merely to issue a warning on a trumped-up pretext, wouldn't even make the news; no one would find anything amiss with it.

After warning a few more drivers with minor infractions, Jimmy contentedly sought out a quiet lane to take a break. Although his cruiser had air conditioning, sitting in the shade of a tree and enjoying the natural breeze was far more comfortable.

Jimmy practiced reloading his firearm while keeping a lookout. Since the dispatch center hadn't assigned any calls, he had no intention of hitting the main roads just yet.

The Nokia Tune melody rang out once again. Jimmy answered the phone, and a familiar voice came through the receiver.

"Hi, Jimmy, your patent has been approved. If you have time, come down to the law school so we can wrap up the remaining paperwork."

"That is wonderful news, thank you, Professor Morgan. I'll head over shortly. Goodbye."

Jimmy hung up and immediately called Kag to request a temporary leave of absence.

When Jimmy arrived at the Bowen School of Law, Professor Morgan was already waiting in his office along with the two students who had helped file his patent and trademark applications.

"Jimmy, you certainly seem eager; you got here fast. I have some documents here that you need to sign. Once we take care of the subsequent paperwork, you can just wait at home."

"Thank you, Professor Morgan. This is the second piece of great news I've received today."

"Oh? What was the first?"

"I was placed on administrative leave previously, and today is my very first day back on the job. Hahaha, just police department stuff, nothing major."

Jimmy picked up the papers from the desk, glanced through them, and signed his name.

"Is that all? If there's nothing else, I need to get back to patrol. I'm still on duty."

"That's it. The rest is just a matter of waiting."

"Then goodbye, Professor Morgan."

Jimmy left the law school and returned to his patrol sector. He had grabbed lunch along the way; although it was still a bit early, eating a little ahead of schedule was never a bad thing.

After his break, Jimmy resumed patrolling. He couldn't spend his entire workday slacking off less than half a year into the job.

He cruised back and forth along the country roads. Unless he spotted something major, he didn't bother turning on his lights. Arkansas was, after all, a conservative southern state where gun ownership rates were impressively high. Getting out of the car and drawing the ire of armed locals over a minor stop was no joke. Although Jimmy could now maintain his heightened spatial awareness indefinitely, watching the world through a monochrome lens of caution was far less vibrant than experiencing reality firsthand.

Just as he thought the afternoon would wind down uneventfully, the dispatch center notified him of an abandoned car parked at an angle on the side of the road and requested him to check it out. It was fifteen minutes later when Jimmy arrived at the scene.

It was a dark green Honda with the word "Accord" on the trunk. Jimmy wasn't particularly knowledgeable about cars, but it appeared to be an Accord. It looked rather angular and sharp-edged, vastly different from the smooth, rounded contours of later models.

Jimmy walked straight up to the driver's side. He had already confirmed from a distance that no one was inside, but since his inner perception wasn't quite as reliable as direct visual confirmation, he still chose to inspect it up close.

He circled the car and peered through the front and rear windows, visually confirming the absence of any contraband or bags. There were no collision marks around the vehicle either; it appeared to have been deliberately parked there.

"Adam 28, calling dispatch. Run this license plate for me, in-state, xxx-xxx."

"The vehicle is not reported stolen, status normal."

"Adam 28, dispatch. The roadside vehicle is unoccupied. Visually, there are no signs of a traffic accident, and no impact marks on the periphery. My guess is the car broke down, and the driver arranged for someone to pick them up."

"Dispatch copy."

Having finished his inspection, Jimmy started his cruiser and shifted into reverse. Using his push bumper, he nudged the diagonally parked vehicle until it was straightened out parallel to the curb. Previously, its angled position had blocked a portion of the lane; while manageable during the day, it would have easily caused an accident at night.

As he finished dealing with the vehicle and prepared to drive away, Jimmy suddenly noticed something amiss. In the grassy roadside ditch, not far from the parked car—about five or six meters away—lay a grey T-shirt. When he had circled the car earlier, his focus was entirely on the vehicle itself, ignoring the surrounding terrain. The presence of this clothing in such a setting felt rather abnormal.

"Adam 28, calling dispatch. I've noticed an anomaly near that vehicle. I found a grey T-shirt about four to five meters away from the car. Judging by its condition, it hasn't been on the ground very long—there's no significant dust on it, and I haven't spotted any blood stains or other unusual signs. I'm going to check out the surrounding area."

"Dispatch copy. Do you require backup?"

"Negative, not at present."

"Dispatch copy."