“This is why I wanted to mention it to you because of the pattern of general craziness I’ve been seeing around town. People are acting, well, like you’d expect people with no souls to act.”
With a sudden flash of insight, Colton thought about their suspect in this assault case. “The guy that did this. When we interviewed him, remember we talked about how it seemed he lacked any guilt over the incident.”
“Yes, and we’ll see what Dr. Dilorenzo has to say about it after he evaluates the man. But, for now, we need to interview the victim.”
“I’ll take you to him.” Niall stood, gesturing. “And, I hope you won’t hesitate to call if I can offer any more insight into a Reaper’s duties.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Lacey followed Doctor Matthews to the room at the end of a long hallway where their victim, John Pope, was being kept while staff treated his wounds.
“The MRI we did this morning showed a reduction in the swelling in his brain,” Niall told them. “But, with head trauma, it’s always best to be cautious to the extreme. I’d like it if you could limit your interview to about 15 minutes or so. He’s also medicated, though I left orders that nothing with a sedative effect was to be given to him until after you’ve left.”
“Thank you, doctor. We appreciate it. Do you have a prognosis yet?”
“I’d rather not make a guess at this juncture.” The doctor looked at Lacey as he answered her. “With head injuries, I like to observe them for a week at least. Some effects of brain damage won’t show up until then. But, he has a good chance of recovery. His other injuries are healing up nicely.” With that, he walked back down the hallway toward the nurses’ station. But he stopped and turned back to them. “And Lieutenant?”
“Yes, doctor?”
“Do not be so certain that you have no soul.”
She stood for a moment in stunned silence, then Lacey rapped briskly on the door, and pushed it open. “Police.” She glanced over her shoulder as Colton followed her into the room.
The man in the bed was of short stature, and he had bandages on both arms and hands. IV bags hung on a pole attached to the head of the bed. Lacey saw the bruising on the man’s face and the parts of his arms that were free of the white wrap. One eye was nearly swollen shut, and the nose was a sickly color of blue and purple.
“Mr. Pope, I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is Detective Colton. We’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.” She kept her voice soft.
“Please, call me John.” The man answered weakly. “Mr. Pope is my dad, and he’s been gone for a while now.”
“John.” She looked at Colton, who seemed to be as confused as she was. She mentally flipped through her knowledge of humans, remembering that head trauma often caused the victim to have scattered thoughts, seemingly random to anyone other than the victim. “Can you tell me what happened yesterday morning?”
She watched as Pope glanced around the room with his uninjured eye, finally focusing on her and Colton. “I was driving to work,” he answered. “Traffic was a bitch.” Pope winced, though she didn’t know if he was in pain or if he regretted the curse. “I had talk radio on for something to distract me.” He shifted his weight with another wince.
“Take your time,” Lacey said with a soothing tone.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The man inhaled sharply. “It’s all still a bit fuzzy.” Pope’s eyes lost their focus as he turned to inward thoughts. “Well, I can’t even remember what the topic was. I like channel KOVS, so knowing them, it was probably something controversial. Whatever’s the hottest topic in the news, usually.”
Lacey gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, I listen to them sometimes, too.”
Colton was aware that Lacey was using the talk radio as a way of establishing a rapport with the victim, and again he marveled at her easy use of the techniques taught at the Academy, methods he was still struggling to master. If his instructor, or his trainer with the police department, had been as skilled, he might have learned more. Or, maybe not, knowing I still resisted authority at that point in time. He found it hard to believe how much he had learned from his partner in such a short while. Even Becca commented on his professional growth, saying she credited some of it to his working with Lacey. Imagine what I would have missed out on, had I been successful in making the department put me with someone else. Or requested a transfer. He was grateful to Lacey for having the patience to deal with him on a daily basis, something that, knowing how her history connected with his, must have been just as difficult for her as it was for him.
Bringing his attention back to the interview, he noticed Lacey taking notes into her tablet as she listened to Pope. He cleared his throat, hoping to get her attention. She glanced up at him and nodded.
“Did you ever, at any time, make any aggressive motion toward the other guy?” He stepped closer to the victim as he spoke. “Did you say anything he might have taken as offensive?”
“No, never.” The other man sounded shocked. “I might have been overly apologetic. From the start, I knew it was my fault, and I admitted to it right away. I had my insurance information in one hand, my phone in the other.” He closed his eyes as if trying to put into words something that was foggy in his memory. “Then, I said how I was calling the police to make a report, and that I wouldn’t have my insurance company dispute the claim. I’ve been with them a long time, and they paid quickly when my wife was in an accident a few years back. But, he didn’t even stop long enough to let me finish my sentence.”
“Well, we’ve placed him under arrest for aggravated assault. There were enough witnesses, some of them police officers, that the state can do it even if you decide not to press charges against him.” Lacey’s voice sounded compassionate. “But, I would recommend that you do. It will enable you to go after him in civil court to get reimbursed for your medical expenses, and brings more jail time for the suspect.”
“Yeah,” Colton seconded. “Don’t let him get off with lesser punishment for what he did to you. You didn’t stand a chance against him.”
“Of course I’m pressing charges. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a violent person by any means, but I’m not a punching bag.”
“In the meantime, here’s the number for victims’ services.” Lacey dug a card out of her pocket as she spoke. “They can help you with immediate medical bills, medications, and lost wages while the case is in litigation. Please, make sure you call them. Some victims don’t, feeling it’s some kind of charity. Believe me, it’s not. It’s money set aside by the state for this purpose. You’re a victim.”
“Thank you, I will.” Pope’s voice sounded tired.
“My number’s on the card too. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, or if you think of something more to add. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks.”
With a jerk of her chin, she left the room.
As they walked back to the parking lot, Colton commented, “Well, that’s pretty much the same story we got from the wits at the scene.”
“In fact, I didn’t expect to learn much more from interviewing him.” She agreed as she climbed into her car. “But, it’s procedure.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes procedure is a fucking waste of time!”
She chuckled. “For an Immortal, you sure need to learn the value of patience, Big Brother.”
“Hey, I may be long-lived, but I’m not truly an Immortal.” Werewolves had an average life span of 500 to 600 years, and medical science kept pushing that boundary.
“Yes, I know.” She grinned.
He fell into her car’s low-slung seat and clicked the seatbelt into place, then immediately grabbed for the handle above his window. He was already all too familiar with her driving, something he was certain he’d never get used to.
As she pulled from the hospital’s parking ramp, her phone rang. Using the hands-free feature on the sporty sedan’s steering wheel, she answered. “Anderson.”
“Lieutenant, this
is Paul Kelso.”
“Hey Paul, what’s up?” She modulated the loudness of her voice so the car’s speakers could pick it up better.
“Have you given any more thought to what we discussed yesterday?”
“Actually, I was going to call you once we got back to the station. I’ve decided to go ahead with it.”
“That’s splendid news! Wait until I tell Sallie, she’ll be so thrilled.”
“Let me give you a call at end-of-shift, how does that sound?”
“Awesome. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
The call disconnected, and Colton looked at his partner, full of curiosity about the cryptic conversation.
“What?” Lacey sounded uncomfortable.
“Come on now, Little Sister, what’s that all about?”
“Well, you know, I felt bad about those dogs we confiscated during that call yesterday. So, I talked to Paul about adopting one.”
Colton looked at her in disbelief. “You’re getting a dog? For real?”
She smiled. “Yeah, for real.”
“I didn’t think you even liked dogs.”
“It’s just the two-legged ones I don’t like,” she teased.
“Get out.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking or being serious.
“Well, Paul said they don’t automatically euthanize fighting dogs anymore, but they do try to find homes that can handle them if they ever do become aggressive toward people. I may not have much skill in training dogs, but I’m certainly strong enough to handle one. And, I’ll learn, whatever there is to learn.”
Fascinated by this new aspect of his partner, Colton asked, “So, which one are you taking home?”
“Morgan.” She made a swift lane change. “The striped one.”
Colton flipped back through his memories of the previous day, until he finally realized she meant one of the dogs who was in the ring when they entered the barn. “Really? Well, that’s cool.” Suddenly realizing that he had no idea where his partner lived, he wondered, “Do you have room for a dog? Especially one that big?”
“Let’s see, I have about ten acres. None of it’s fenced, but I’ll get that taken care of tomorrow. In fact, on my way home, I’m stopping by the pet store. Knowing me, this is going to be the most spoiled dog in the history of mankind!”
Colton grinned. Now that he’d gotten to know Lacey a little better, he knew she was the genuine real deal: as true a person as anyone could ever hope to come across. He had a feeling the former fighting dog would get the best of food, plush pillows to sleep on, and all the treats and toys a dog could want, and live a fruitful and perfect retirement. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”
She scoffed. “No, but I feel sorry when animals are mistreated this way.”
“Well, this reminds me of a question I’ve had, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”
“What question?”
He glanced at his lap in embarrassment. “Um, well, you once told me you’d stopped feeding on humans long before the Undead Oath became a thing. So that means you had to feed on animals, right? To keep the virus fed? I mean, that was before places who package meat for humans started packing blood, right?”
“Of course,” she replied, making the turn into the station. “But when we hunted, we killed in as humane a way as we could. I mean, like any carnivorous predator does. We didn’t go out of our way to torture our prey!”
He thought perhaps she was getting angry, so he blurted, “Okay, I didn’t mean to make you mad, it was just an honest question.”
“No, I’m not angry. The fact of the matter is, dogs didn’t want to be human pets. They didn’t ask to be domesticated. But it’s because of their domestication that they end up in dog fighting rings, or neglected or abused in other ways. If they were still wild, it wouldn’t be so easy to beat them or starve them.”
“Oh, I’m with you 100 percent there.” He nodded emphatically. “Believe me, I totally agree. If we had any pets, I’d make damn sure they lived in the house, not outside in the cold and shit.”
“Yes, that’s the idea. My Morgan won’t have to live outside in the heat, or the cold, or worry about being forced to fight another dog. Like I said, I expect him to be spoiled before too much time has gone by.”
They had made their way to the Major Crimes unit while finishing their conversation, so Colton reached for his tablet and turned to his partner. “Share?” She took her own device from her pocket and tapped the screen, sending her notes from their victim interview to him. He left her to go to her office and went to his own desk, pulling up the case file and preparing to update their book.
This was the part he hated the most about his job, the tedium of report writing required for every call, no matter how small. But, it was another skill that, under Lacey’s tutelage, he was getting better at. She can’t teach me to like it any better, though, he thought with a groan. Booting up the laptop that was new only a couple months ago, he fidgeted in his chair, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. Switching his tablet on and placing it within reach on his desk, he got to work.
7
Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. ~~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Lacey stepped in her office, leaving the door open, and tossed her keys on the table. She put her tablet on the desk and sat, booting up her laptop. The conversation between her and Colton made her realize how excited she was at the prospect of having a dog. She’d never had a pet; during her human childhood in 17th century Greece, animals were first and foremost food products or beasts of burden. And though she worked many dog fighting cases before, this was the first time an animal struck a chord within her, as this friendly, striped dog did. It was on an impulse that she called Paul Kelso the night before, asking if she could be considered as a candidate for adopting one of the poor animals.
She had no idea what she was doing, but she figured if she thought of the dog as her child, she would blunder through the experience. Unconsciously, it was an opportunity to open herself up to another being, a subject she and Dr. Dilorenzo frequently discussed during her therapy sessions. Deep in her heart, she understood that dogs didn’t have a long lifespan, and she thought maybe having a creature to care for, even knowing that it wasn’t Immortal, would be baby steps in the right direction. So, she followed through on the impulse.
The woman picked up the phone and made a call to the hardware store she always used for things needing to be done around her house. She instructed them to begin fencing off the back part of her property, knowing a dog as large as Morgan would need space to run. While she was talking to the store manager, she made notes on her tablet, trying to think of things that she would need when she brought the dog into her home. She certainly hoped the dog was housebroken. But that raised another matter.
“Do you have dogs?” She asked the hardware store manager.
“Yeah, I have two of them. Well, they’re mostly my wife’s. Little mutts. Why do you ask?”
“Looks like I’m adopting one,” she admitted. “I’ve never had a dog, but I’ve known people who have. You do sell those little doors that will allow the dog to go in and out of the house on his own?”
“Yes, we have many kinds of pet doors.”
“But, you know I have a substantial security system at the house.” Tom was one of the few people she had given her code to, on the off chance that they needed to get into the house to work while she was gone. The man also knew where she hid a spare key to her home. “How would a pet door work with such a system?”
“Oh, I know exactly what you need,” Tom told her. “I’d forgotten about your security. We sell a brand of pet doors that uses a battery-powered latch to keep it closed. The device has a radio frequency fob that you put on the dog’s collar. The door won’t open unless that fob comes within range of it. And it works from both sides. This is why you’re fencing the yard? What size of dog are you thinking about?”
“He’s a large dog. He was a seizure in a dog fighti
ng bust. I’m adopting him.”
“I’ll make sure to bring the largest one we have,” the manager said with a laugh. “The guys will get it installed, make sure it’s working properly, and leave you the instructions with the fob.”
“That’s great, thank you. Maybe you can answer this question, save me another phone call. How will my security react to an animal in the house when it’s armed?”
“I’m sorry, Lacey, I can’t answer that because it depends on the sensitivity of your system. Most home systems with motion detectors are set for a human-sized mass, but that’s something you’ll have to ask your service provider.”
“Well, thanks anyway, Tom. Go ahead and charge everything to my account. Take your usual tip for the guys out. How soon can you start?”
“It’s been pretty slow this week. We can probably get to you sometime tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Thanks again, Tom.”
She hung up and dialed her security company. After talking at length with a technician, she was reasonably certain that her new friend wouldn’t set off any of her motion alarms. She added collar and leash to her pet-shopping list, knowing that she’d have to keep the dog on a leash when he was outside, at least until the yard was done. Though she didn’t intend to leave the dog outside, she wanted a dog house so he had shelter from the weather if he happened to venture out when she wasn’t home. With a small smile she realized she was about to get a crash course in having a dog. And secretly, she loved every moment of it.
I must be crazy, she thought. I’m the last person in the world who should want a dog, and yet...I’m getting a dog! Pushing the thoughts out of her mind for now, she turned to her computer, calling up the case file dealing with the dog fight. Lacey knew Colton would be working on updating their assault book, so she was using the opportunity to finish adding in her notes on this case. She wanted her opinion to go on the official record; she was unnerved at the way the main suspect acted as if he had done nothing wrong, as if he had every right in the world to be doing what he was doing, even though it was wrong in the eyes of the law.
Souls of the Reaper Page 7