Bishop's Run

by B. D. Gates

  My dogs heard my laugh and came flying out the doggie door, flinging themselves off the small wooden porch and onto the lawn at my feet, barking and running in circles around Tess and me.

  “Now girls, behave, yes, I'm home, down now, down, girls!”

  “They sure are glad to see you,” said Miz Maggie. “Would you like a glass? Jared makes a mean pitcher.”

  “Oh, thank you, but I'm still taking the occasional pain killer, so I don't think I should mix it up with margaritas, especially mean ones,” I replied, grinning. “Maybe next time. Nice to meet you, Jared.” Jared nodded, smiled back as he raised his glass in a half-salute.

  “I'd love to, Miz Maggie, but I'm still on duty and heading back to the department,” said Tess. “Hello, Jared, how are you?”

  “Never better, Tess, never better, it's good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, good to see you, too.”

  “Jared, you did a beautiful job on the carriage house, thank you for letting me stay in it,” I said.

  “Why, thank you, Miz Lisa, I'm glad you like it. It's a comfortable little place at that, isn't it,” replied Jared, his pride showing. He had every right to be proud, it was indeed a comfortable little place.

  “Well, you're home and I've got to run. Next shift will be on shortly. If they're not already,” Tess said, looking out onto the street. A cable company panel truck was two houses down from us, a 'technician' sitting in the driver's seat seemingly writing out a work order. Tess headed back to the gate.

  "I had fun, Detective, thank you, we should do it again, hit me up anytime, you know where I live,” I called after her as she walked away. She didn't turn, just gave a dismissive sort of wave as she shook her head. I chuckled.

  “Come have a seat,” said Miz Maggie, sliding over and making more than enough room on the glider, considering her thin frame. I sat down, the dogs choosing places at my feet.

  “I hope they don't bother you,” I said, indicating the dogs as I petted Sophie's red head.

  “Oh no,” replied Miz Maggie. “Your dogs are better behaved than most children I know.”

  Jared laughed. “They sure are,” he agreed. “But that cat of yours, now, that one has an attitude!”

  “Yeah, he does,” I laughed, agreeing. “He was a feisty kitten, but he had to be because Rosie was such a pain when they were little. Starting out, I had just those two, and they were both about three, four months old, so they've grown up together. Sophie came along about two years later, she was only eight or nine weeks old, so they raised her. Poor Sophie, she's the biggest, but she's the lowest on the totem pole.”

  Over the course of the next half-hour, we chatted about the weather, Miz Maggie's garden, fishing and other generalities. The unseasonable warmth of the early March day and the slow gentle rocking of the glider was lulling me to sleep.

  “Well,” I said, standing up, “I'm about to go to sleep right here. I'd best head on into the house before I do.” The dogs stood up, waiting to see where I was going. “I've enjoyed the company."

  "Oh, so did we," agreed Miz Maggie. "You know, a nap would be good right about now. It'll be time to start supper soon, but a short one might be in order,”she continued, as she looked over at Jared.

  “Can't think of a better way to spend the rest of the afternoon,” replied Jared, as he stood and gathered up the glasses and pitcher on the serving tray.

  We went our separate ways, me and my crew to Jared's cozy bungalow, Miz Maggie and Jared most likely to Miz Maggie's cozy bed. As I reached my door, I heard the low rumble of Jared's voice, followed by the hoot of a laugh from Miz Maggie. Turning around, I saw her playfully swat his backside as he went in. More laughter followed as the door closed behind them. I smiled.

  Inside, I undressed down to my T shirt and popped the top button on my jeans then stretched out on the couch, Rosie by my legs, Sophie on the floor by my feet. I could hear Smokey crunching cat chow from his bowl on the washer in the mudroom. Sleep was coming quickly, but not before the scent of Tess' perfume floated through my mind. Again, I smiled, as the darkness fell and took me to another world.

  I woke with a start, gunshots ringing in my ears, the smell of cordite and gunpowder in my nostrils. Disoriented in a now-darkened room, I froze, not knowing if I had been dreaming or if what I'd heard was real. I started breathing again when I realized that the dogs were still asleep. Times like this, I wish I had my gun. That'll be the first thing I buy when I get a paycheck. I stretched, threw the cover over Rosie's chunky little body, and sat up. Sophie raised her head.

  “Hey baby girl, you hungry?” I asked. Sophie cocked her head and wagged her tail when I said “hungry.” Rosie sat up and grumbled at me. “You, too?” I asked. She grumbled louder. I laughed and stood up, looked out the window into the darkened yard next door. I caught movement next to the tool shed. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I looked again. Yep, there it was. Someone was fooling around my neighbor's shed.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my new old-school cell phone and flipped it open. Holding down the 'one' on the keypad, I kept a watch on the yard next door.

  “Hello? Bishop, what is it? Hello?”

  “Hey, yeah, it's me. I'm fine, but...”

  “Bishop, you can't just call me for no reason...”

  “I know, I know, just listen. There's someone moving around in my neighbor's backyard, around the tool shed. I thought you just might like to know.”

  “Really? Okay, I'll be right there.”

  Tess's Crown Vic pulled up to the gate, lights off, about eight minutes later. I had been watching the yard, but the activity had stopped almost from the time I had talked to her. I met her at the door, the dogs bouncing and starting to bark, but they quickly quieted when I shushed them with a hand signal. Tess walked past me into the darkness of the living room and leaned over the couch, looking out.

  “Is he still out there?” she asked.

  “No, the activity stopped just after I called you.”

  “Could you see what he was doing?”

  “No, not really. Want to go take a look?”

  “I called the officers in the van and put them on alert, so I'm going to go talk to them, then one of them and I will go check it out. You're staying here,” she replied.

  “Yeah, okay,” I replied. I wouldn't have let just anyone go with me if I'd been in her position, either.

  I watched her walk out the gate and across the street, then I started doling out the kibble. My crew chewed slowly, watching me as I moved back into the darkened living room. They could feel the vibes and they were on guard for whatever might happen. I watched Tess' and the undercover officer's flashlights move through the backyard to the shed, sweeping their lights into the dark corners of the yard as they approached the shed door. Their inspection only took thirty seconds at the most, then their lights turned and headed back towards the street. Tess was in my kitchen about five minutes later, cheeks flushed from the hunt.

  “Well, no one was home and the shed was locked with a padlock, so I suppose nothing was taken, but I'll check back with the homeowners tomorrow, take another look in the daylight. Are you absolutely sure you saw someone back there?”

  “Yeah, I'm sure. Whoever it was was standing right in front of the shed," I replied. "I saw them, him, plain as day. That's when I called you."

  "Okay, well, maybe we'll see something we missed tonight."

  Tess headed back toward the kitchen. I followed.

  “So, Detective, what's on your agenda? Got a busy evening lined up now that you don't have to babysit me anymore?”

  “Oh, well, ah, I'm going to head home. I've got...I do have...ah, yeah, plans.”

  “A date, perhaps? Some extracurricular activities?”

  “Now, Bishop, don't start...”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “I was going to invite you to dinner. Rain check then. But you'll be missing a delicious supper of scrambled eggs and tomatoes with cinnamon toast for dessert.”<
br />
  Tess laughed at that. “Really? Scrambled eggs with tomatoes? Cinnamon toast?”

  "Delicious. You don't know what you're missing. The one meal I could eat no matter how crappy a day I'd had.”

  Tess paused. I wondered what her thoughts were, if she was considering what my previous circumstances in Baltimore could have actually involved. It didn't take long to figure that out. Detective Hayes was back in charge.

  “I'll be going, Bishop. Have a good night. I'll be in touch about setting you up with a job. And thanks for calling.” She turned and was out the door without looking back.

  Well.

  Damn.

  4

  Detective Hayes' last visit was on a Thursday evening. It was now the following Monday morning, and I was sitting on the back deck, drinking coffee and watching the dogs play with their soccer ball. Sophie could grip the ball with her mouth and carry it, keeping it away from Rosie. Rosie, on the other hand, nudged the ball with her nose, pushed it around the yard like a canine Tobin Heath. I heard the Crown Vic's super-charged engine, followed by quiet and the closing of a car door. Tess rounded the corner and opened the gate, was caught by surprise as Rosie flew at her, skittering the ball along the ground and banging it off Tess' legs before coming to a stop. The little dog huffed at her, tongue hanging out of her smiling mouth as she stood and waited expectantly.

  “Kick it!” I instructed Tess. “Give it a good one.” Tess pulled back and smacked the ball into the middle of the yard. Rosie took off as the ball left Tess' foot, sprinting (as best a short dog can) towards the center. From the far edge of the yard, Sophie dashed towards the ball, jumped up and snagged it out of the air. Hitting the ground, she cut left and bounded away from Rosie, who was fast on her heels, barking her displeasure at the steal.

  "Are they always like this?" asked Tess.

  "Almost always," I said. "Have a seat."

  "No time. I just came by to let you know that we've talked to Dr. Biggs, one of the local vets, about your past experience and she'd like an interview with you before she makes a decision. The back story is that you have escaped an abusive relationship, you are a cousin to a friend of the captain's, and you need a job."

  "Oh my god, seriously?" I was more than slightly embarrassed by the idea that anyone would consider that I would be involved in, no less the victim of, an abusive relationship. Being in Witness Protection was becoming more and more painful every day. "Who thought that up? Did they laugh while they put it all together?"

  "Now, Bishop..." started Tess.

  "It's 'Lisa,' remember, 'Lisa Baxter,' I continued. "I am Lisa Baxter, a victim of domestic abuse. Really? Really? Could anyone buy any of that?

  Detective Hayes looked down at me with what I interpreted as contempt. "Why couldn't you be escaping an abusive relationship, Bishop? What makes you think you couldn't be a victim? Because victims come in all shapes and sizes and from all types of relationships, there are no boundaries when it comes to abuse, and it is not always physical, or didn't you know that? I am just so damn sorry that this is all so damn difficult for you. Do you think any of this is easy for a small-town police department?”

  She continued. “You have no idea how stretched we were before you even got here. The only reason we took this assignment is because we thought it would be a good way to make some money and hire a couple more officers when it was over.

  “Now, you are here and you're going to make the best of it. Most people in this town are almost always willing to help out anyone they think is down on their luck, but they do not particularly care for people who get themselves into trouble and expect other people to bail them out. We invented a back story that we thought people would find acceptable. Anything that put you in the wrong place at the wrong time by your own doing would not be. So, suck it up, 'Lisa,' and get over yourself. Make the best of a bad situation, because that is what everyone else involved in this is doing!"

  Holy shit.

  I hadn't been dressed down like that in a helluva long time. My embarrassment at my self-centeredness far exceeded my distress at being called 'Lisa.' I opened my mouth, fully intending to counter Tess's tirade, to tell her everything she didn't know about me, but just as quickly decided against it and kept quiet.

  Detective Hayes wasn't hanging around to hear any rebuttals or apologies anyway. "Your appointment with Dr. Biggs is at twelve o'clock. I'll pick you up at quarter til. Be ready." With that, she turned on her heel and strode back to the gate, let herself out, and was gone.

  I looked out into the yard. Rosie and Sophie were standing stock still in the center, mouths open, tongues hanging out, looking at me as if they knew I'd just been scolded. They wanted no part of it. "Come on, girls, no one's in trouble."

  At least, no one with four legs.

  I sipped my coffee. It didn't taste good.

  Detective Hayes arrived promptly at eleven forty-five. We pulled away from the carriage house, passing the neighbor's house where I had seen the intruder. I took the opportunity to ask about the follow-up.

  "So, what happened with next-door?"

  "Officer Higgs and I stopped by the next morning and spoke with the owners. They'd put the padlock on just last week, after the paper ran a story about the thefts. There wasn't anything missing from up around the house. We looked at the area around the shed, found a footprint that didn't match the owners, a size 13. We took a few pictures, but that was it."

  "A footprint." Well, I was vindicated, there had been someone in that yard.

  That was the extent of the conversation for the duration of the ride. Fortunately, the trip only took about five minutes, when we pulled up to a squat cinder block building with a faux-cedar facade. We opened the front door and stepped into the reception area. A thin, well-dressed woman was picking up her little white lap dog, who'd been bathed, dipped, and trimmed, the sprucing-up ending with bows on her ears and tail.

  "Oh, come here, precious, Mommy's here to take you home! And for being such a good girl, you get a special treat, yes, you do," squealed the woman, as she took the dog from the vet tech. The tech and I locked eyes, and I gave a bit of an eye roll. It was met with absolutely no response whatsoever on the part of the tech.

  Oh, damn, I thought, this is not the way to get off to a good start.

  As the woman made her way to the door, the receptionist looked up expectantly at Tess and me. I took the lead.

  "Hi, um, I'm Lisa Baxter, I'm here to see Dr. Biggs about a job," my voice going up slightly at the end like a teenage girl, making the statement more like a question. Wait, I'm nervous about a job interview as a kennel assistant? Realizing that, I felt my face begin to warm, as if I were standing in front of a fire on a cold winter day. Tess moved away from me, took a step back. What, did she think I was contagious?

  The discomfort in the room was palpable. It was quickly broken by the entrance of a short, fiftyish woman in green scrubs. She paused for a second, as if she could feel the tension, then came into the room. "Hello, I'm Dr. Sharon Biggs," she said, as she extended her hand in my direction. She barely came up to my shoulder, and I'm not tall, but I didn't let the apparent irony of her name and stature show in my face. Shaking her hand, I suddenly felt very calm. This woman, this vet, was one of my people, from my 'tribe' as it were. I could tell she felt it too, and she smiled, a warm, welcoming smile.

  "Why don't we just step in here for a moment," said Dr. Biggs, taking my upper arm and gently directing me into the first exam room. I caught sight of Tess' face as the door closed behind us. She wore an expression of quizzical surprise, perhaps from being left out of the interview process, or maybe she'd picked up the connection between the doctor and me and didn't quite know what to make of it.

  Dr. Biggs waved her hand toward the exam stool, indicating I should sit, while she crossed to the other side of the exam table. I sat.

  "So, Lisa, Detective Hayes tells me you're from Maryland. Did you grow up there?"

  "Yes ma'am, I did, in the Baltimore a
rea," I replied.

  "And you've lived there until recently."

  "That's right," I answered.

  "Ahuh. And, have you ever worked with animals?"

  "Well, it's been a while, but when I was younger, I worked in a vet's office, bathing animals and cleaning kennels. And I also worked in a pet store, but I really liked the vet's office better."

  "Is there anyone I could contact about your employment with the vet, a reference?" asked Dr. Biggs.

  Uh oh. I was afraid of that. "Uh, well, I wish there was, but the vet's office closed when Dr. Benson retired, and I don't even know where anyone who worked there with me is now. It's been a while..." I said, my voice trailing off.

  "Okay, well, come with me and I'll show you our layout," she continued as she led the way out the door opposite the door to the waiting room. We were now standing in the center of the office building, and what was apparently the lab, since there were two microscopes on the right-hand counter, a double sink between them. Tubes with various colored tops were in a rack on the counter at the far end of the room. An x-ray view box was mounted on the wall opposite the lab, next to the lead-lined x-ray room on the far left.

  Moving on through the lab, we entered a short hall at back of the building. To my far left, at the end of the hall, was Dr. Biggs' office. A good-sized surgery/trauma room was through the door just before her office, while next to that and directly across from the lab area was the central supply, containing towels, kennel pads, shelves of fluids, tape, casting supplies, dry dog and cat food, and so on. To my immediate right was another door accessing the kennels and the grooming facilities.

  We passed on into the kennels area and, as we walked through, the dogs jumped up from their mats and began barking and wagging their tails. Each kennel had a doggie door at the cinder-block end, allowing each dog access to their own outside run. As we made our way past the barking dogs, Dr. Biggs stopped and petted each one, calling their names and telling them they were 'such good boys,' or 'girls.'

  The grooming area was comprised of a trimming table, two deep metal sinks with sprayers, and two drying cages, which have built-in warm-air blowers to help dry the animals after their baths. A tall but well-built young girl was trimming a Lhasa Apso as we moved toward a metal fire door next to the last kennel. She looked up and I caught her eye and nodded. She nodded in response and continued comparing the length of the hair on the little dog's ears.