by Amy Shojai
Tee climbed behind the wheel, stashed her bag on the floor, and adjusted the seat to her short legs. The cold made her knees and hips hurt worse. Lately she’d walked like a kupuna three times her age, not that a granny would appreciate the comparison. She sipped her hot chai.
“Sucks getting old, honey-girl.” Karma whined as if in agreement. Tee shook out three extra-strength Advil and dry-swallowed them. The pain had abated behind her eyes, but a muzzy cloud remained, as if everything filtered through fog. “Shake it off, Teves. You’re a cop, for God’s sake. Redford stuck his neck out for you.” He’d put in a word for her with the Captain. She couldn’t mess this up, refused to let a little headache and sore muscles stop her. Helping to clear this case made points on her path to becoming a detective.
Karma poked her blunt muzzle between the seats to nudge her arm, and Tee absently rubbed the dog’s ear. “Okay, let’s go talk to the bookkeeper. Shouldn’t take long.” Unless Sissie Turpin demanded a warrant. Redford could help with that, if need be, but it’d delay things and she’d have to stay in South Bend longer than the couple of days she’d planned. Innocent people bent over backwards to help investigators, or should. Tee didn’t expect much, if any, delay. “We’ll interview her, get the files, and be on our way.”
Tee cranked up the heater, switched on her phone’s driving directions, and wrinkled her nose at the mileage estimate. Turpin worked from her home northwest of the city proper. She’d be driving directly into lake-effect snow. She switched on the wipers, adjusted the heat to defrost, and drove slowly out of the rental lot.
The computerized woman’s voice on the phone—why not a guy’s voice?—and a dearth of traffic got her out of South Bend proper and onto the county road in record time. Street signs, hard to read even in the best of conditions, made Tee grateful for the smarmy phone voice prompting each turn. Each time it spoke, Karma tilted her head one way and then the other, intrigued by the electronic sound. But after twenty minutes even the dog lost interest and propped her rusty chin on the back of Tee’s headrest.
The blowing white sizzled against the windshield. Intermittent gusts pushed and pulled at the car. Tee’s shoulders hunched as she squinted to see through the reduced visibility. She held her breath and took her foot off the gas until the only car she’d seen in fifteen minutes, which materialized out of the storm like a ghost heading toward town, passed. Tee coasted to a near stop, catching her breath, second-guessing the wisdom of interviewing Turpin in this weather. It could wait a day, so she didn’t end up in a drift.
She looked both ways, checked the mirror, and slouched in her seat. “We can’t turn around.” Empty pastures unrolled on each side of the road, with no houses, barns, or outbuildings visible. You couldn’t see where the road and shoulder ended. She didn’t want to end up in a ditch. “Guess we keep on, Karma.”
At her name, the big dog stood up, woofed softly, and stared out the window. She balanced on the back seat like a surfer riding the waves, eyes attentive on the unrolling landscape beyond the windows. Tee knew she’d have to polish nose prints off the glass before returning the car, but didn’t mind. Living with Karma made Tee more aware of her surroundings than ever before. The dog’s hearing and scent sense pointed out wonders of the world she’d previously missed or ignored.
So ten minutes later when the big dog cold-nosed Tee’s neck, she flinched, but paid attention. “What’s up, honey-girl?”
Karma whined and clawed the rear passenger-side window, leaving paw-streaks on the steamed-up interior.
Tee hesitated. According to the phone, the Turpin house sat less than a mile ahead, just up the hill. She wanted to get this done. Also, stopping the car on the slick road might make it hard to get rolling again.
She compromised. Tee took her foot off the gas and coasted, rolling down the passenger window to better see past the swirling white.
The big dog jittered with increased excitement, whiffering scent carried by the breeze. Karma barked and stuck her blunt face into the wind.
Better not be a squirrel. Karma loved chasing the tree rats in the park near her Chicago apartment. This was different. They’d not been together very long, but Tee couldn’t imagine the dog would alert in the car over something like that. Tee strained to see. The expanse of white remained unblemished except for a small mound off to one side. The closer they got to the mound, the more agitated Karma grew, until her whines mixed with gargled barks. Something there for sure. Worth the risk to get stuck?
Tee shook her head and rolled the window back up. “We’ll stop on the way back. Police business first, downtime after.” Decision made, she pressed gently on the gas to maintain momentum up the steep hill.
An explosion of snow erupted from the small mound in the field. A black and white dog dashed in front of the Tee’s SUV, stopped, and barked.
Karma redoubled her own barks. Tee choked back a surprised scream. She reflexively stomped the brake, the car skidded sideways then turned in a slow circle. They ended up facing back the way they’d come, thankfully still on the county road. Tee breathed again, not realizing she’d held her breath.
“What the holy hell!” Tee shoved the car into park and ran hands through her short dark hair. Karma continued to harangue the dog that stood in the middle of the road to block their way. “That’s enough already, Karma shush!” Her head wanted to explode and the barks didn’t help. “Okay, I see the dog, yes I see.” She half-turned in her seat, to get Karma’s attention. The dog finally quieted, but still quivered with concern. “The dog’s just fine, Karma, probably belongs to a local farm.” The snow-covered mound might be a dog shelter for all she knew. But she wondered why the mostly white dog with his black, bear-like face—looked like an Akita—hung out in the middle of a deserted field?
Karma leaned in to slurp Tee across one cheek, then returned her gaze to the big dog guarding the road. It stood on the highway, preventing the car from moving. Karma pawed the window again.
The Rottie loved other dogs and probably missed having canine company. And Tee hated the thought of any animal being out unprotected in this weather. But the Akita had shelter. Once they left, surely it would go back into the dugout. They’d check on the way back to town, after interviewing the bookkeeper. Tee shuddered at the thought of Redford’s scathing criticism, should she put police business on hold to rescue some mutt. Besides, with less than a mile to the destination, better to press on than postpone the interview.
The stray dog sat in the middle of the road. He watched Tee manipulate the car around, toward Turpin’s house. She congratulated herself for keeping it on the road. With no traffic to speak of, she had the full two lanes to use. Tee decided to back up for a running start to get up the daunting hill.
Tee put the car back into gear, ignoring Karma’s continuous whines, and gingerly built up speed. But before she’d traveled a third of the way up the slope, the Akita once again dashed directly in front of her car.
“Son-of-a—”
This time, she refrained from standing on the brake and the dog danced away before she connected. But the break in momentum proved enough to stop her climbing the rise, the car’s tires spun without gaining purchase. Tee stopped before the car slid sideways into the ditch.
Karma woofed with excitement, and paw-danced on the back seat.
“Okay, dog, you win this round.” Tee fumbled with her seat belt, adjusted her coat, pulled on gloves, and stepped out of the car. She left the car running, with the heater. No way she’d put a strange dog in the rental with Karma. But both dogs had been so insistent she stop. She remembered Lia telling her, “Always listen to your dog.” So she’d listen and go check things out.
Before she got near the stray, he raced away, running back to the snowy hump in the field. Tee sighed and slogged after him. She winced when ice spilled over the tops of her boots when her feet sank into a foot and a half of white.
Behind her, Karma’s barks and gargled invectives spilled out the partially open window,
upset she’d been left locked up in the car. “Don’t need you dashing off chasing your new buddy,” Tee muttered, and then raised her voice, yelling over the susurration of the wind. “Hey ilio, what do you want? Don’t tell me Timmie’s down the well.”
He—or maybe a she, hard to tell—turned back only briefly, then hurried on to the shelter.
Tee didn’t laugh at the joke. Her head hurt too much, and if this dog just wanted to play, she’d be royally pissed.
A cry—a human sound—answered.
“Oh my God!” Tee redoubled her efforts to reach the snow-covered mound. A car, on its side. The shattered windshield painted with frozen blood. Someone inside.
The dog again looked back at Tee, padded close to the car, and leaped lightly up onto the vehicle’s exposed side. Carefully balanced like a tightrope walker, he paced to reach the open passenger window, peered inside, woofed, and waited for Tee to approach. Once she was abreast the window, the dog leaped off the car and dashed away, disappearing into the snow as if the storm conjured the hero Akita back to his cloudy guard post.
“Hey, you in the car, can you hear me?” Tee cleared away powdery snow from the windshield. A crumpled form, a young girl with purple hair and bruised eyes. The girl blinked, mouthed something, and Tee saw dried blood from her nose. “I’m afraid to move you. I’m a police officer and will get rescue out here to take care of you. Hang on.”
No warmth came from the crashed car. It would become the girl’s icy casket without quick intervention. Tee knew all about hypothermia. The cold killed quickly and efficiently.
Tee clambered back through the snow to reach her car. The warmth begged her to stay, and feeling guilty, she gave in to the invitation while she called for backup. She opened the rear door, and when Karma leaped out she collected the dog’s blanket from the back seat, grabbed the still-warm tumbler of chai from her dash, and stumbled back to the accident.
Karma beat her to the car, intent on reaching the accident victim. The big dog had already mimicked the Akita’s acrobatics and hopped up to peer inside. Tee pushed Karma aside. She had to stand on her toes to see into the angled window. “Hey, you. What’s your name? Hey! Are you awake? Talk to me.”
“Charlie.” The girl answered softly, lips blue. “So c-c-cold. Why’d Bishop leave? Kept me warm. Licked my face, Bishop s-s-saved my life.”
“Bishop? Is he your dog?” She didn’t want the girl to know her dog disappeared. “Here’s a blanket, get this wrapped over you. The emergency crew is on the way.” She watched as the girl used one hand to pull the fabric close, then Tee carefully lowered the tumbler of warm chai. “Drink it slow. Should help warm you up.”
“Not mine. Bishop just showed up. Tag on his collar had his name. Thought I dreamed him at first. He kept waking me up, wouldn’t let me sleep, snuggled close. I don’t even like dogs, he scared me at first. Cats are better but I lost my cat...” Her voice shook. Charlie looked around, suddenly frantic. “Did you catch him? Don’t let him get me!”
“Bishop? The dog ran off.” Tee’s brow furrowed. Charlie’s confusion could be from a concussion. Karma pushed her big square head next to Tee, breathing heavily and offering her best Rottie smile. “Oh, this is my police dog, Karma. She won’t hurt you.”
“Not the dog. A man. He ran me off the road.” Charlie sniffled, throat catching in a sob. “I think he killed Sissie.”
Chapter 25
SHE’D LEARNED TO DRIVE in bad weather while living in Chicago and South Bend. September hated ice and snow, but thankfully muscle memory quickly returned. She gritted her teeth and prayed for no traffic as she blew through one stop sign after another in the residential area.
The car behind her bumped and then hit her harder. She nearly slid off the narrow street. Fewer stop signs appeared and she pressed harder on the gas, speeding up in tiny increments to stay in control of Angela’s car.
Her attacker smashed into the rear of the car again. He grew bolder with fewer houses and witnesses. She managed to hold the car steady down the center of the street, but the next bump could spin her out of control. She had to head back to town proper, get to a more well-trafficked area.
Keeping one eye on the mirror, September took her foot off the gas, turned the wheel, and barely managed to hold the road. The SUV behind her overshot the turn, and took time to stop and reverse. September drove carefully, shoulders hunched, brow furrowed at the odd noises the car made from its crunched front and rear ends. She made another turn, heading back into the business section of South Bend and away from residential neighborhoods. She switched off her lights. They didn’t help much in the driving snow, and only shined a beacon for Mr. Bleak to follow. If Angela’s car stalled, she’d have to grab Macy and make a run for safety.
More lights ahead announced a larger intersection. But before she made it halfway down the street, the SUV appeared from a side street. He hit her broadside.
Macy screamed. His claws dug into September’s shoulders to keep his perch. September’s teeth clacked so hard she bit her tongue and grimaced at the salty blood flavor. Her temple smacked the driver’s side window.
His engine growled. He bulldozed her car across the pavement and smacked it into a utility pole.
Macy clambered off of the headrest and head-butted her neck so hard, September thought she’d bruise. When the SUV backed away, then sat waiting an endless moment, she knew the next impact could end everything. September wound her arms around Macy’s warm, solid body, snuggling and frantically zipping the purring cat inside her coat.
Mr. Bleak wanted them to run. He’d pick them off as they came out. She had no choice, had to take the only chance they had.
“Love you, Macy. Always remember I love you.”
The SUV’s engine roared. It barreled toward them.
Swinging open the door, she dove into the snow barely ahead of the impact. Her leg screamed in silent anguish when the SUV impact closed the car door on her thigh. He backed away again, ready to smash the car a third time. She had seconds to move, escape, hide...
September rolled, scrambled to her feet, and gambled precious seconds to slam the driver’s door. Fogged windows hid the interior. He’d check inside before coming after them. That could buy them enough time.
She limped away in an unsteady crouch then ducked down a narrow alley crowded with dumpsters. Behind her, the SUV’s third impact echoed. September increased her pace, running in a limping gait once around the corner at the end of the alley. She cradled Macy’s bulk like a pregnant woman sheltering a child, and raced back the way she’d come. She had to find the police, Shadow, or both, before Mr. Bleak tracked them down.
Chapter 26
TEE CALLED KARMA FROM the doorway, and together they backed away from the macabre scene. Only then did the big orange and white cat stop hissing and growling. He guarded access to the room from his perch on the chair back, his paws kneading the top of Sissie Turpin’s head.
Turpin’s murder had been staged to look like a suicide. Even though she had been expecting it Tee shuddered, then fished out her phone. She dialed 911, waited for the operator, identified herself and reported the death. By rights she should sit on her hands until the locals arrived. Their county, their jurisdiction.
She set her jaw, and her eyes narrowed, taking in the details. While she waited for the locals to arrive, Tee carefully recorded the scene, taking pictures and video with her phone. She performed a careful, visual search of the room from the door. After enlarging the picture of the drug vial near the body, she dialed her phone.
Redford answered on the third ring. “Busy time here, Tee, what ya got? Make it snappy.”
She quickly filled him in. “Whoever got to her staged a suicide. Looks like an overdose of midazolam after drinking heavily. The needle’s still in her arm.”
“How’d she get that drug? It’s a controlled substance.”
“She had a script from a veterinarian for one of her cats, to control epilepsy...” She crossed her arms. �
�The label’s on the vial, clear as day. Makes me wonder about Detweiller’s suicide.”
He sighed. “Different drug, same M.O. In both cases, if it’s the same do-er, he used whatever was at hand. Damn. That’s cold. And takes planning. Goes a lot deeper than we suspected.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, her shoulders tightening, and craned her neck to relieve the tension. Karma leaned against Tee’s thigh. She stroked the big dog’s broad head, grateful for the company. “She’s got a bunch of cats running loose. Locals are on the way and I asked for animal control. Can’t get close to the computer. But from a distance, looks like the electronic files got trashed. Lucky for us—and her—the witness got away.”
“You sure she’s a witness, not the killer? Be a neat trick to point at some mysterious bad guy who disappears into the storm.”
Tee scratched Karma’s neck when the dog whined. “Possible, I guess. But Charlie truly seemed terrified. The girl’s savvy, but young, but tries to seem older. I need to talk to her again.”
“Okay, but get everyone to keep it quiet she survived. If she’s a witness, she could be at risk.” He spoke to somebody in the background before returning to the conversation. “What’s her name again? Charlie Cider? Who is she, anyway? A relative of the vic?”
Tee wished she’d asked the girl more pointed questions. “Not clear. Purple hair, buzz cut above both ears, nose ring, tats on the fingers.” She’d been more concerned about saving Charlie’s life. Lucky for her, the furry Akita angel named Bishop decided to intervene and keep her warm.
“We’ll run the name and description, see what we come up with from our end. Meanwhile, work with the locals. I’ll reach out from here, see if I can light a fire. If you’ve got the same lake effect snow we’re fighting, it could be a while.” He paused before adding, “While you’re waiting, anything you find out could save the locals time, doncha think? Probably be grateful for the help.”