Louie Gallo had to be the dumbest criminal to date, I should know because we grew up together. He kept doing the dumb shit that always got us in trouble, and I ended up becoming a bail bondsman.
Not only had he skipped out on bail, and leaving my employer on the hook for a $50,000 bond, but he kept using his credit card to fill up gas on his way out of state before using it to book a hotel room for the night. Rule number one is to only use cash when you are on the run from the law, no cards. Louie should know that, but he is also the kind of guy to steal Apple devices from a department store during a smash and grab robbery and try to sell them on Craigslist afterwards. The customers called the cops when they found out that the devices they bought were bricked.
With a little bit of information siphoned from a friend with some serious connections within the police department, we were able to stay hot on his trail with the frivolous purchases he made. I had caught up to him by nightfall, and had found his car in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn.
I hope he doesn't mind that I slashed all four tires. I don't like having to chase people across state lines.
Inside the hotel, I waited in the lobby for a little while because his credit card was used again to order a pizza from a local shop. Sure enough, a beat-up hatchback with a magnetic pizza sign on the roof pulled into a spot up front and the guy hopped out with his insulated bag.
"Hey pal! I'm supposed to meet up with Louie and watch the game tonight, y'know?" I bluffed the deliveryman and held out a pair of twenties, "He ordered the pie, but the knucklehead didn't tell me his room number earlier, and now he ain't answering his phone."
"Yeah, he's in 115. Do you want change?" he asked and handed a large pizza and a box of wings to me.
"Naw, keep it, buddy. Have a great night, I know I will!"
Food in hand, I strolled to the room that my target was hiding in and heard people talking inside.
Must just be the TV.
I pulled my hat down over my eyes and knocked on the door, shielding my face with the pizza box. Chain locks rustled, and the door swung inwards, and without looking I dropped the food and put a gun in the person's face.
"You're coming with me, asshole...wait...Sheila?"
My wife was speechless and wore a terrycloth robe, her raven hair was still wet from the shower. I did a double take because Louie was laying on the queen sized bed in his boxer shorts, and I had a gun pointed at the woman who was just as shocked as I was.
Photo by Marten Bjork on Unsplash
