I was sitting at my computer working on edits, when three cops appeared outside my window with shotguns. No kidding. Got my heart thumping, I can tell you. They had a dog with them who was obviously following a scent. They walked passed my window, across the street, and between two of the houses on the other side. You never know what you'll do in a situtation like this, so I surprised myself by locking the doors and closing the windows...86 degree in Beaverton today, so it wasn't very comfortable. But I'm glad I did. When I finished, I looked out of my picture window and saw a young man standing no more than five feet from me, hiding behind my house and staring at the receeding police. I had that heart thing again, only faster this time. I stood very still. If he had looked to his right just at that moment, he could have shook my hand. Yikes!
The young fellow then sprinted across my side street and disappeared between two houses, away from the cops.
Well, I didn't know what to do. I wanted to get the cops and tell him where he was. The kick ass heroine reared her auburn head and I found myself outside, heading toward the police. Fortunately, the spunky side kick smacked me soundly and a bout of common sense overwhelmed me. I turned on my heel and headed back into the house. Then I called 911.
I told the very nice lady on the phone what I had seen and then answered about a hundred questions about the guy, what he looked like, where exactly I was, etc. All the time, I'm watching out the window to see if the cops showed back up. By the time I got off the phone, it had been about three or four minutes. I assumed the guy was in Pittsburgh by this time.
A couple of minutes later, there are four cops with shotguns in their hands and the dog outside my window. I opened it and pointed to where I had seen the guy disappeared and they rushed across the steet. The next thing I know, they're shouting, "Down on the ground! Get your hands up! Don't move!" The guy was across the street hiding behind my neighbor's car.
They took him away and I spent the afternoon pacing through my house. If I ever doubted I was a real writer, I don't anymore. The first thing I did was let my author friends know what just happened for moral support, and then outlined my next project based on this event! Wow!
I'm exhausted and my sweet husband keeps calling me a hero...he also keep hugging me and making sure I'm ok. If this is how a hero feels, I'll have a lot more sympathy for her in my next novel!