by Karis Walsh
She said he hadn’t been drinking at all. He had swerved to avoid hitting a squirrel, and his car had skidded on a wet spot on the pavement caused by the motorcycle owner’s sprinkler system. A bullshit story.
Abby was about to search for more records involving Dale when Kira tapped on her office door. She hastily closed the window on her computer, as if she’d been caught reading porn.
“Kira, hi, come in. You’re done already?”
Kira came in and sat in the metal chair on the other side of Abby’s desk. She looked around with a curious expression while she talked. “Yes. I don’t think Detective Carter is happy with me.”
“Because you couldn’t identify the car engine?” Abby shut off her computer and set it to one side.
“I don’t think he really had much hope I’d be able to do that. He said it was a long shot, but they wanted to give it a try. What are you doing with that?”
Abby followed Kira’s gaze and looked down at her hand. She was flipping a small stapler end over end with her fingers. “Habit,” she said. She set the stapler down on the edge of her desk calendar.
“You’re a fidgeter. I should have expected it from someone who keeps everything bottled up inside.”
“I don’t…” Abby realized a little too late that Kira was baiting her with a teasing smile. “Is fidgeter a word?”
“You knew what I meant, so it works as a word. Anyway, Detective Carter played the tape of the car engine six or seven times—which I thought was overdoing it—and then he asked me if anything sounded familiar. I said I didn’t remember hearing that engine and he said, Which one? Turns out, he had played seven different car sounds, and I was supposed to identify the right one. I said they all sounded the same to me…”
“Uh-oh,” Abby said. Her mind had been spinning as she tried to figure out what the new connection between Tad and Dale meant, but Kira’s story made her laugh. Carter was a car guy and would talk about spark plugs and engine blocks for hours if anyone let him. “Which lecture did you get? The one about how computer chips are destroying the bond between owner and car, or the one about the endless variety of cylinder configurations and how they differ?”
“Neither of those. This was about how you can identify problems with your engine just by listening. It was a good lecture. It had sound effects.”
Abby laughed. She liked seeing Kira look so at ease. The taut and wary expression she’d worn when Abby first saw her this morning was fading away. It reappeared for seconds now and again, as if Kira was remembering some detail from two nights before. “His nickname around here is The Car Whisperer. I think he’s the one who started using it first.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I talk to him.” Kira stood up. “I need to get back to the fairgrounds to pick up Julie and her friend Angie. Do you still have work to do here?”
Abby stood up as well. “No. I can come back and finish another time, but I’m heading the same way as you.”
She’d be back later to do more research, but now that she was assured Kira was okay, she wanted to get to the fair in time for the second demo ride. She wouldn’t have time to warm up and ride Legs in it, but she could at least watch Don parade Fancy around like a trained seal before she got ready for a night patrolling the midway. The trip here had been fruitful, though. She’d seen Kira laughing and looking normal even after her talk with Bryan Carter, and she’d also learned some valuable information. She wasn’t sure what to make of it yet, but it helped to explain why Rick hadn’t done anything to help Kira when he answered the domestic call. Abby locked her office behind them. She had never understood why he hadn’t made an arrest that night. She’d assumed it was because Kira and Dale were a lesbian couple, but the explanation hadn’t been convincing to her. Her brother hadn’t displayed any pattern of homophobia in the calls she’d researched. He seemed motivated by money alone and made his decisions based on what he’d get out of the victims he blackmailed or the accused he let go without charges. Knowing Dale was his business partner’s stepsister suddenly made his actions that night more consistent with his other behavior. She had to ask Kira eventually if she’d known about the connection between Tad and Dale, although she had said she hadn’t met him before yesterday.
“What did you think?” she asked instead, as they went down the stairs and back to the open main floor.
“About what?”
“About my office. You were checking it out.”
“I was not!” Kira said. “Well, okay, I was. Your office looks exactly like I thought it would. Spartan and clean and colorless. I expected your house to be the same, but you surprised me with the big old Victorian.”
Abby wasn’t sure how to respond. Home was…well, where she could be herself. The steel and metal of her office furniture and supplies were part of the armor she wore here at work. She was about to change the subject when someone did it for her. Rick was coming through the front door and directly toward them.
She was ready to whisk Kira away from him, but he was looking right at them.
“Hey, Goody-Goody,” he said, using his nickname for her. Goody-Goody Hargrove. The name made her nostalgic for Hard-Ass. “This your girlfriend?” He gave Kira a slow once-over. “Nice, little sis. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
He seemed awfully cheerful for someone who’d just lost a friend and business partner, but Abby realized he might not know yet. He was coming back to swing shift after his weekend off, and his usual routine—she felt disgusted that she knew his routine—included a trip to a bar after work and then a couple days holed up with whatever woman he picked up, or whoever needed to screw her way out of a speeding ticket. Then he’d sleep in, work out, and come to the station. He was a creature of habit. She had that in common with him and the rest of her family, but she hoped her habits were more productive and positive than theirs. Unless he’d been involved, he probably hadn’t heard about Tad’s shooting. She wanted to get Kira out of there before he got the news.
“You look familiar. Have we met?” he asked Kira. She was staring at him with her mouth open, and Abby guessed she was about to start screaming at him.
“C’mon, we need to get going.” She tugged on Kira’s arm. “He’s not worth it.”
She got Kira to move, and they walked away with the sound of Rick’s laughter following them.
“He didn’t even remember me.” The words exploded from Kira when they got to the parking lot. “He made my night hell, abandoned me in a clearly dangerous situation, and he has no clue who I am. Why’d he do it? Abby, why?”
Abby was still heading toward the car, but Kira had planted herself on the pavement and didn’t seem ready to move until she had some answers. Abby went back to her.
“I didn’t understand myself, until today,” she said. “He didn’t arrest Dale because she was his business partner’s stepsister.”
“Dale has a stepbrother?” Kira repeated. The shocked look on her face convinced Abby this was the first she’d heard of it. “I didn’t know. I never met any of her family. Do you know who he is?”
“You’ve met him already,” Abby said. “It was Tad Milford.”
Chapter Twelve
Abby was in the audience just in time for the second police demo. Since she had been called in last minute to fill in for Clark Jensen when he had to fly back to Connecticut for a funeral, she hadn’t had a chance to prepare with the other riders, but she’d had fun riding with the group. Rachel and Cal had organized several different rides so audience members who came more than once wouldn’t be seeing the same set show over and over, and they used Abby and Legs to demonstrate the easier versions of each exercise. They never told the audience that she and Legs were inexperienced, which might have diminished their authority and put them in danger when they were on patrol. Instead, they showed the stages of training and desensitization for the horses, and Legs and Abby usually performed step one. As she had grown comfortable over the past few days, however, she and Legs had participated i
n more of the advanced phases of the exercises. Abby was pleased with the way the rides had gone—not just from a personal standpoint, but also as the team’s supervisor.
Cal, playing the part of emcee, was funny and charmed her audience. Rachel competently led the riders through a series of exercises with large, bright props. The entire team captured the essence she had hoped for when she first started drafting her proposal for a mounted unit. Although the team had originally been expected to fail, the end result was a success. The horse-and-rider pairs were polished and calm during the maneuvers and friendly and approachable with the kids and adults who crowded around to visit them after they were finished.
Abby felt a pang of regret because she wasn’t riding right now, since she had so few days to play at being a real member of the group. The afternoon had been worth missing the ride, though. She had learned about Dale and her connection to Tad. She had also discovered more about her brother’s offenses and the reasons behind them. Most important, she had been there to support Kira. She’d even managed to make Kira smile even though she was at a police station reliving her traumatic experience with the detective.
After she had gotten a stunned Kira into her car and on her way, Abby had raced home and into her private office where she had copies of reports related to her family stored in locked file cabinets. They were the ones she’d considered suspicious from her grandfather’s career and now her brother’s as well. She had taken out Kira’s file again today, after so many months. She had reread Julie’s essay, now able to put a face and personality to the words. She had also gone through the report from the night Kira had called the police in an attempt to get help. According to Rick’s words, Dale had been cooperative and Kira had recanted her allegations of assault. A lover’s spat, with no visible marks on either person. No arrest warranted.
Abby hadn’t discovered anything new in her rereading, but she’d felt a deeper pull toward Julie and Kira. They were her responsibility. They had been since the moment she had made an unauthorized copy of the report and taken it into her home. She had thought giving them Nirvana was enough, but it wasn’t. They were real people now, not abstract symbols representing her family’s sins. She had to be sure she didn’t get too involved, didn’t follow the path of familiarity that led to ethical compromises, but she had to see this through.
Now, in the arena, she paid attention with half her mind as the team worked through some warm-up exercises from Cal’s polo repertoire. Once Don and Fancy took center stage, however, she forgot about her obligations to Kira and leaned forward to see what would happen next. There were huge piles of debris scattered around the arena, and Abby had been eyeing them with concern while the rest of the unit performed their exercises around them. What was Don planning to do? A trash obstacle course? She watched with a mix of trepidation and curiosity as Don came forward with a clip-on microphone and introduced himself to the crowd. She had to put aside her skepticism and trust her team, but she rubbed sweaty palms on her uniform pants.
“I’m Officer Don, and this is my horse and partner Fancy. She might not be the prettiest horse in the world, but she’s pretty special to me.”
Abby groaned. Hopefully he was going to do more than a lame stand-up comedy routine. She might have to fire him if he kept this up.
“Hey. Scoot over.”
Abby started when Kira spoke from the bleacher behind her. She put her hand on Abby’s shoulder while she climbed over the back of the seat and sat down. Julie and Angie followed, squeezing in next to them. Kira’s thigh was pressed flush against hers. Abby tried to concentrate on Don’s words, but the scent of gardenias threatened to transport her to a tropical island. Where Kira was wearing a bikini and frolicking in the warm surf…
“And Fancy’s trot is so bumpy, I sometimes think we’re having an earthquake when she and I are jogging back to the barn for our lunch break.”
Leave it to Don to cool off her passion. Abby wanted to get out a hook and pull him off the stage, but she heard Julie and Angie laugh when he tried to sing a song while he trotted Fancy around the ring. The other kids in the audience were laughing as well. Even she had to smile at the vibrato Fancy forced out of him.
He halted again and made a show of being out of breath and stiff after his short workout. Once he recovered, he spoke more seriously.
“We know earthquakes can occur anytime in our state. How many of you have felt one happen before?”
Most of the people in the audience raised their hands. Abby didn’t at first, but Kira jabbed her in the side and cleared her throat. Abby rolled her eyes and put her hand in the air. She wasn’t an audience-participation kind of person, but she wasn’t about to ignore Kira’s insistence.
“After a bad quake, some buildings are destroyed and people might be trapped inside. There are dogs trained to search for survivors, and I’ve been training Fancy to do the same thing. If there’s a natural disaster in Tacoma, she’ll be ready to rescue some citizens.”
Okay, this was getting interesting. Abby heard Julie and Angie whispering together about training their horses as search-and-rescue animals and she felt Kira’s sigh echo through her where their arms were resting next to each other. She had a feeling Kira would be hearing about this new plan for a long time. Abby listened to Don explain the difference between the way a dog sniffed the ground for a scent while a horse sniffed the air, and she was intrigued with his initiative. Yet another way for the mounted unit to be useful to the city of Tacoma—they needed anything they could use as leverage when officials inevitably started looking for ways to cut back on expenses.
After his talk, he left the ring and Cal took over as announcer again. She picked a young audience member and had him point to one of the debris piles. Billie wedged herself under the plywood and brush the kid had chosen, and Don rode Fancy into the ring again. He wove around the piles until she stopped at Billie’s pile. Abby hoped Billie wouldn’t be injured by Fancy’s enthusiastic pawing, but she climbed out unscathed while Don gave Fancy a sugar cube as her reward.
Abby and Kira led the girls out of the arena while the riders walked around and answered questions from the audience. They were talking and gesturing as they planned a training regimen to turn their horses into bloodhounds.
“She seems like a smart horse,” Kira said.
“Well, she’s exceptionally food motivated,” Abby said. “She’d do almost anything except move fast for a lump of sugar.”
Kira laughed. She gestured toward the girls who were standing a few feet away, deep in conversation. “We’re going to walk around and see some of the other 4-H exhibits. Do you have time to join us?”
Abby glanced at her watch. She knew what time it was, but she wanted a moment to consider the offer. Innocent as it was, she had already gotten too involved with Kira. But she had some questions for her about the night of her domestic, and the casual atmosphere of the fair might make it easier for Kira to talk about such personal topics.
“I have an hour or so before I need to get out on the midway. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the fair than the horse barns.”
“Great. So, girls, where are we going first?”
“Scones,” both said at the same time.
“Are scones an exhibit now?” Abby asked. “I thought they were something to buy.”
“We need sustenance for all the walking we’re about to do,” Kira said. “Besides, have you ever come to the Puyallup Fair without getting a scone?”
“Never,” Abby said without hesitation. She remembered her mother bringing bags of them home when she was little. She and most of the kids in her school had them in their lunch boxes for a couple of weeks every September.
Abby got in line and bought them each a scone, plus waters for the girls and coffee for her and Kira. The prices were ridiculous, but the first bite into the soft biscuit with its butter and raspberry jam filling made it worthwhile. It was a taste of the past.
She and Kira trailed behind the girls as they walked towa
rd the opposite corner of the fairgrounds from the horse barns. A carousel turned lazily here, far from the flashier midway rides, and people used the splashing fountain as a meeting place. In the evenings, music and cheers from the grandstand shows would filter into this space. They entered the Pavilion and took the escalator upstairs.
“I haven’t been in here for years,” Abby said, looking around the large second floor. This was where handmade products and photographs were judged and displayed. Quilts and articles of clothing hung from the ceilings, and glass cases were filled with plates of food and canned goods. In a fair teeming with commercialism and displays of cheap souvenirs, these simple objects took on more meaning than they would have in a less incongruous setting. They stood for home and community and sustenance.
“I entered a carrot cake here once,” she admitted to Kira when they paused by some jars of jellies, their contents glistening like jewels under the bright fluorescent lights. The confession was hard for her to make because of the memory it triggered. Standing in the kitchen with her mother as they followed her grandmother’s recipe. Her mom hadn’t been a cop, but she’d known exactly what her husband and father-in-law were doing. She—like Abby and her father—had benefitted from her grandfather’s actions.
“I can’t imagine you baking,” Kira said, looking at her with her head cocked to one side.
“Well, my mom helped. On my first attempt, I forgot the baking powder, so the cake could have been used as a discus in a track meet. The second try was more successful. It got a blue ribbon.”
“Now that I can believe. You seem to have a competitive streak, whether it’s with horses or carrot cakes. I’ll bet you’d even enter a police officer competition if there was one.”
“Pfft.” Abby dismissed Kira’s ridiculous notion with a derisive sound, but she secretly reveled in the way Kira had come to really know her in such a short time. She wasn’t about to admit she had been considering taking her team to compete in a national mounted police competition at the Kentucky Horse Park.