She scaled a fence and flew across several neighborhood lawns. The distance between her and the killer was getting more and more narrow. They were closer and closer the more they ran. Suddenly she caught him and knocked him down to the ground. She wrenched his arms behind his back and roughly pulled him to his feet.
“You have the right to remain silent….” she said as she read his Miranda rights to him - this dirt bag that had killed seven women in the last month.
At that moment, her partner came up huffing and puffing, and he was red-faced and sweating. Roger had gotten out of shape in the last couple of years and, at 55, he was overweight and unhealthy.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“Sure,” he said breathlessly. “I just need to rest a minute.”
Several uniformed cops came up then to take possession of the suspect, and Kerry was glad to be rid of him. It would keep her from being tempted to take out her Glock and blow him away. She was harboring way too much anger over this one, but he had eluded the Chattanooga Police Department for weeks and so many women had been killed.
She turned to Roger to talk to him about the capture and saw that he was holding his chest. On his face was a grimace of pain and he seemed to be swaying.
“Roger! I think you’re having a heart attack!” she screamed and was on her radio in a flash.
“Kerry….” he started, but he was unable to say more as he fell to the ground.