ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story) by Glenn Langohr Page A

gang member lately. She said she thought Sarah wanted to feel protected and guessed they were looking for Bob to smash him. Detective Maltobano wondered if she was right. He also wondered if narcotic detective Pincher was having any luck finding Bob Prescott. The plan was for him to nail him on a drug charge. Maybe then Sarah would feel comfortable enough to testify against him.
    Detective Maltobano drove through the parking lot at Salt Creek’s beach looking for Sarah’s Lexus. It wasn’t there. He pulled back out to P.C.H. to see if she was at the more local Strands parking lot a mile away. At Selva Street he took a right. A quarter mile down Selva Street the detective passed the Chart House restaurant on the cliff to the Dana Point harbor. The street hooked to the right into the wetlands. Another quarter mile down the street it dead ended with enough room for about eight vehicles to park. Sarah’s Lexus wasn’t there either but there was a Buick with a couple of occupants in it that looked suspicious.

CHAPTER 21
     
    Inside the Buick Todd lit a fresh bowl full of the Hawaiian Kush bud in the pipe. After he got the cherry going he coughed and pointed to the other two samples on Damon’s lap. He asked, “What are those samples?”
    Damon picked up one of the samples. “This one is the chocolate tye and the other one is the golden tye. I like the golden tye better. The chocolate tye burns you out.”
    Detective Maltobano pulled up thirty feet behind the Buick and parked. He observed a smoke cloud escaping from the windows with two male occupants and their surf boards in between them. It reminded the detective of that movie, “Fast Times at Ridgemount High.” Detective Maltobano got out of the car with the intention of doing so loudly. As expected, the occupants reacted lethargically. The driver casually looked over his shoulder and then told the passenger something. Then the passenger freaked out.
    Damon heard the car door slam behind his and calmly looked over his shoulder. He saw a big strapping man with suspenders and a shoulder holster walking slowly toward the car. Damon grabbed his two samples and told Todd, “We’ve either got an F.B.I. agent or some kind of mobster coming at us. Get rid of the pipe!”
    Todd wasted time by having a look himself. He saw the giant just in time to see his boots and pants and panicked. “That’s an F.B.I. agent!”
    Todd tapped the pipe against his hand and the burning embers went everywhere. A good sized cherry landed in his lap and melted right through his board shorts and burned flesh. He screamed, threw the pipe and flailed his hands against his lap to escape the pain.
    Detective Maltobano pulled his service revolver out and reached the Buick. He yelled, “Get your hands in the air where I can see them!”
    The driver was complying and had what looked like the end of a couple of plastic baggies sticking out of the waistband of his shorts. The passenger was desperately slapping at his shorts in obvious pain. Upon closer inspection he had a large hole in his board shorts right in the middle that looked like it was a burn mark. Right then the pungent odor of marijuana reached the detectives nose and he realized his earlier conclusion was right. He looked at the floor on the passenger side and saw a pipe laying there with some ash next to it. Studying the two occupants, they were both about twenty years old and looked local to the area. The driver had a Volcom hat on backwards over almost no hair. His eyes looked aware and observant and didn’t appear to be stoned. He had a sun bronzed body that looked over six feet and in good shape. Right under his chest was a tattoo of an iron cross with the letters O.C. tattooed underneath it in a rounded font.
    The passenger had wild sun bleached hair. His skin didn’t absorb the sun as well and was freckled and chapped. His eyes looked perpetually stoned and red from too much sun, pot smoke and possibly allergies. His lips looked