He stoops down and picks you up, turns, and walks away from the precinct, which is the direction he was initially headed. He puts you in the front seat, and starts to drive.
"I'm going to take you to my place, and let you use my computa. I know you got away from the lab; that is vey good. I wonda how many rives you used doing that."
As he's talking to you, he continuously glances down at you.
There is abruptly chaos, and you are flung to the floor; you feel the weight of the dashboard pin you down painfully.
You hear the detective breathing shallowly, and the car has halted.
After what seems like an eternity, you hear sirens. The technicians drag the detective from the car, and you hear him sputter, "The cat."
The car is cut and pried from around you; one of the EMTs examines you, and says, "We'd best have a veterinarian have a look at you, but it looks to me like you're one lucky cat."
It seems the detective was in a head on collision with a tractor trailer which weaved into his lane. The other driver, a large man in his forties, is reacting belligerently to the questioning. He smells distinctly of marijuana and alcohol to your nose at this distance.
They take you to an emergency animal hospital, and the doctor on duty examines you carefully, feeling over every inch, before telling you, "A car accident where you were pinned to the floor, and not a mark on you. You are one lucky guy. Can't say the same for your owner; only time will tell for him."
They put you in a cage for the night.