Brooklyn Nine Nine

Chapter 4: Wine, Whining, and Craigslist Wheels

The morning air was brisk, the sky above Brooklyn barely tinted orange with sunrise. Jake Peralta — or Jackson inhabiting Jake's life — jogged through the park, earbuds in and hoodie pulled tight. It had been a few weeks now, and this routine was slowly becoming his new normal.

Push-ups, squats, a quick run. Nothing extreme like Sergent Terry. Just enough to keep the blood flowing and his mind clear.

He returned to his apartment, dripping sweat, and toed off his sneakers near the door. The first thing he did?

Open Craigslist.

Jake sat on the couch, towel over his shoulder, typing furiously.FOR SALE: 2001 Mustang GT. Classic model. Great engine, questionable reliability. Look, it's loud and fast, but if you're not a mechanic or rich, maybe don't. $9,000 OBO. No flakes. Serious buyers only.He attached some photos he took the previous evening — including one where he angled it to hide the chipped paint on the bumper — and hit post.

"Later, deathtrap," he muttered. The car had been nothing but problems. He didn't care about the bet with Amy. That car had to go.

Jake walked into the bullpen, freshly showered and dressed, sipping a coffee. He did the usual morning greetings, jokingly fist-bumped Hitchcock (who was too slow to return it), and walked toward his desk.

Boyle appeared almost immediately, grinning like he just ate a whole roasted duck. "Morning, partner!"

"Morning, Boyle," Jake said, setting down his coffee. "What's got you so hyped? Another weird meat shipment come in?"

"Nope! I checked the board — guess who's working with you on the DUI case?"

Jake paused. "Please tell me it's not Scully."

"It's me, bro!"

"Oh, thank God. And also, oh no."

Boyle blinked. "Wait, why the 'oh no'?"

Jake smirked. "Because I know you're gonna make this a whole thing. Like, you'll say we're 'back on the streets,' or—"

"We're back on the streets, baby!" Boyle beamed, throwing an arm around Jake's shoulder.

Jake sighed. "Called it."

They opened the folder and reviewed the report.

Case #0463-T — DUI IncidentLocation: Atlantic Ave & KingstonDriver: Natalie Carmine, 29Details: Vehicle pulled over after erratic swerving. BAC recorded at 0.15. Two open bottles of red wine found in the passenger seat. Suspect claimed she was heading to a friend's house. One eyewitness saw her run a red light. Charges pending. Suspect is niece of Councilman Anthony Carmine.

Jake flipped through the report. "So she was wasted, driving, and almost ran a red light in front of witnesses."

Boyle leaned in. "The report says she was cooperative, though. Like… super polite."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Great. So she was classy and reckless."

"She also told the officer she was 'just having a rough night.'"

Jake stood. "Let's talk to the arresting officer first. Then, we meet the witness. I want to make sure we lock this down before politics get in the way."

At a nearby precinct, Jake and Boyle met Officer Lauren Chu, who pulled Natalie over.

Officer Chu recounted: "It was around 11 PM. I noticed her vehicle swerve near the divider, so I lit her up. She pulled over immediately. She didn't resist, didn't argue, but she smelled like a vineyard."

Jake asked, "Any signs she tried to dump alcohol or hide stuff?"

Chu shook her head. "Nope. Bottles were in plain sight — one open, one half-full. She admitted to drinking earlier."

"Body cam footage?"

"Yeah. Here."

They watched the clip on Officer Chu's tablet. Natalie looked calm, soft-spoken. "I know I shouldn't be driving," she slurred, "but I didn't have anyone else."

Jake watched silently. "So she admits guilt on camera. That's something."

The civilian witness, Mr. David Reynolds, was a local bodega owner. He confirmed the red-light story.

"She blew through the light like she was late to meet God," he said, waving a bag of sunflower seeds. "Almost clipped a guy on a bike."

Jake nodded. "Would you be willing to testify if needed?"

"Absolutely. That kind of thing kills people."

"Thanks," Jake said, handing over a card. "If anyone contacts you about this case — especially anyone from the city council — you call us. Immediately."

Later that day, Jake and Boyle visited Natalie Carmine's upscale brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. She answered the door in yoga pants and oversized sunglasses.

"Detectives," she said. "Are you here to arrest me again?"

Jake held up his badge. "Nope. Just here to ask a few follow-up questions before the DA proceeds with charges."

She let them in, offering coffee, which they declined.

"I made a mistake," she admitted. "I had two glasses of wine at dinner and then found out my friend canceled. I shouldn't have driven."

Boyle, slightly awkward, said, "You didn't just drink, Ms. Carmine — you hit 0.15 BAC. That's almost double the limit."

She sighed. "I know. I wasn't thinking straight. But I wasn't dangerous. I didn't hurt anyone."

Jake exchanged a glance with Boyle. "That doesn't really matter. You could've. You blew through a red light and almost hit a cyclist."

She looked defensive. "I didn't see anyone—"

Jake leaned forward slightly. "That's the problem. You didn't see. Which makes you lucky — not innocent."

Her jaw clenched. "Is this about my uncle?"

"Not unless he's the one who poured the wine," Jake said dryly.

Boyle coughed. "We'll be filing the final report today. If your uncle calls, tell him to call the DA, not us."

That evening, Jake and Boyle wrapped up their notes. The body cam footage, witness testimony, blood alcohol report, and vehicle search report all confirmed the same thing: Natalie was guilty of DUI, with political pressure or not.

Jake submitted the full report to Terry.

"She admitted it on camera?" Terry asked.

"Yup. And the witness is solid," Jake replied. "Charges are rock-tight. If the councilman pushes back, he's pushing against facts."

Terry gave a satisfied nod. "Nice work."

Boyle grinned. "We make a good team, right?"

Jake glanced at him. "Yeah. Just don't start calling us the 'DUI Duo' or something."

"Oh my God, that's so good. DUI Duo! Or wait… Red Light Runners!"

Jake shook his head. "Nope. Moment's passed."

Back at home later that night, Jake checked his email.

New message: Mustang Inquiry — From: CraigWheels1999

He opened it.

"Hey! I saw your post. I'm willing to pay $8,500 cash if it runs and looks as good as in the pictures. Can we meet tomorrow?"

Jake grinned and replied: You bet. Bring a tow truck. You'll thank me later.

He closed the laptop and leaned back, arms behind his head.

Two cases down.