 Whole Story Audiobooks presents All of Us by A. F. Carter Narrated by Sarah Borges Prologue When Sergeant Louis Brady pulls up to the intersection of President and Neven Streets in Brooklyn, he finds three unmarked Ford Escorts. Practically his entire squad, haphazardly parked, knows to curb. Already pissed, he parks his ancient Grand Marquis next to a fire hydrant and gets out. The contrast between the unusually crisp July air and the smoke-saturated interior of the Grand Marquis strikes him immediately, though he's not sure which atmosphere he prefers. He does know that his vice-unit is out of business in this neighbourhood, with no arrests to show for the effort. Lieutenant Cathcart will not be happy. Brady holds up a hand when patrolman Anthony Roboda approaches. Brady dislikes Roboda, a holy name society type with a rosary hanging from the rear-view mirror of whatever unit he happens to be driving. For cops like Roboda, a simple prostitution sting can become a crusade to rid the world of impurities. Brady, by contrast, doesn't hate, doesn't even dislike the women and the transvestites he arrests. Take the man's pay, do the man's job. In twenty years comes the magic pension. Brady's entire career has been based on this understanding of his role in the war against crime. Brady waves at the four cops standing by their units. Tell those bastards to get back to work, Anthony. We can't stay out here all night. He doesn't wait for a reply, but instead approaches the Ford with the woman in the back seat. She's sitting forward on the seat with her knees raised on the seat back in front of her. Her already short skirt is drifted up, probably when she backed into the car. Now it rides almost at her hips, while her green blouse, sheered to begin with, is unbuttoned far enough to reveal a lacy pink bra that Brady wishes he'd given to his wife last Christmas. Brady stops a few feet from the car. The sight's so wonderfully erotic he wants to prolong it as long as possible. He's assuming the woman is too preoccupied with her situation. She's not handcuffed, but the doors can't be opened or the windows roll down. To realize she's being watched. But then she turns her head to him, turns it slowly, smiling, a sly smile, her green eyes pushing past his baby blues, pushing right down into his brain. Does she find what she's looking for? Sample complete. Ready to continue?