by Hammond, T.
“There is a table with paper bags on it. Two of the people, a man and a woman, are in uniforms. A man in uniform is sitting in a chair, doing something on a computer. There is a man and a woman standing next to the table, they are wearing jeans and shirts.”
David asked in a projected voice, “Can you introduce us to your associates, Detective?” His voice was very professional and clipped. I think he realized, as I did, we were going to be asked to take a test of some kind.
“The people are moving to our side of the table, except the guy at the computer. He's still typing.” Red told me.
“Certainly,” Detective Stephens replied, “This is Lieutenant Faber, Detective Jackson, Officers Marks and Willman.”
Red identified each as I shook their hands, “Faber is the woman in the jeans, and Jackson is the man. The uniformed woman is Marks, the man is Willman.”
When handshakes were completed, I asked, “And, the officer on the computer, who is he?”
David slipped an arm around my waist. Casual, yet a show of unity, I think.
After a momentary pause, Detective Stephens answered, “Officer Blair is at the computer. He is transcribing our meeting as I preferred no cameras.”
I could hear the tapping of computer keys, so I was able to look toward the corner of the room where the policeman was seated, “Nice to meet you too, Officer Blair.”
“Likewise, ma'am,” he replied, without stopping his work.
“What can we do for you Detective?” I addressed Detective Stephens.
“We have a task force forming for an issue I can't divulge until the Lieutenant approves of adding you as a resource, and we’ve secured your agreement to assist us. Lt. Faber's approval hinges on me proving to the group you and Red bring unique abilities. Once she gives the go-ahead, I can disclose enough information to see if you’re interested, or able, to help. Anything we talk about in this room must be kept confidential, regardless of the choice you make.”
Since the police were broaching the subject of exposure we talked about in the park a couple months ago, I didn't feel David was overstepping when he spoke up for me.
“We can certainly appreciate your caution regarding talking about an open investigation. But, we will have to insist, if Red and Teresa provide sufficient confirmation they have the needed skills, the details of their contribution will be kept confidential also. Red, Teresa, and I have discussed this in detail; both of them risk exploitation, or kidnapping, if too many people realize they share a special partnership.”
Lieutenant Faber then spoke for the first time, “I admit we are skeptical of the abilities it is suggested you two have, but Detective Stephens convinced us to at least see you and keep an open mind.”
“What do you say, Red? Wanna play with the nice officers?
“Sure. Games are fun,” he replied. I could hear the excitement in his tone.
I decided to add my own twist to the proceedings. “Only follow the directions of Officer Marks, no matter what the others tell you. Since it’s a game, you can have fun with it, but be nice.”
“Are we playing Simon Says?” Again, my dog astounded me with his ability to make leaps of logic.
“Exactly,” I told him, “except in this case we're playing Marks Says.”
David pressed a kiss to my temple. “Red made a connection to Simon Says? Damn, smart since we've only played the game once with him.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Can you give me a running commentary on what happens?” David squeezed my hand in reply.
“What's the test?” I addressed Lieutenant Faber.
“We were hoping Red could check out the bags on the table and identify the pistol.”
Red sat at my side, waiting.
Detective Jackson tried, “Do you know what bag the gun is in?”
“Well, duh.” Red said in my head.
David must have caught my grin. He leaned over and asked in my ear, “Someone being a smart ass again?” I simply nodded.
The woman I assumed to be Officer Marks asked, “Please.”
Red trotted over to the table. David informed me he went straight to the third bag and nudged it with his nose. Red returned to my side.
Officer Marks explained the next test. “One of these bags contains an item of Officer Willman's. Could you get his bag and give it to Lt. Faber.
“Amateurs,” Red snorted.
Red left my side again. Moments later, I heard him drop a bag at the lieutenant's feet. There was a rustling of paper while the bag was opened.
“Yep, that's mine,” Officer Willman identified from his place near the door.
“Can you get my bag for me?” Lt. Faber asked.
“Well, of course I could,” Red snarked, “if your name was Simon or Marks. Really Teresa, this is the best the police could come up with?”
I'm not a giggler, but I came close as I choked back a laugh. David bent to my ear again, “More smart assery?” I nodded.
Once again, Officer Marks spoke up, “One of these bags contain an item of mine. My desk is in the next room. Could you put my bag on my desk chair?”
Red must have picked the appropriate bag and I listened to his nails click across the floor as he went into the next room. David, his arm still about my waist, led me into the larger room we had come through originally.
“Red has put the bag on the floor and is circling the desks. He's sitting there with his head cocked, like he's thinking of something.” David explained. “Ah, now I'm seeing his evil doggy grin.”
“I hadn’t realized he has a repertoire of smiling doggy facial expressions,” I commented, pleased at the new insight to his personality.
“Oops, he put the bag on a seat at Officer Willman's desk.” David said, “But wait, now he's pushing the chair, with the bag, across the room to Officer Marks' desk. Good thing it’s on rollers,” David joked.
“Holy shit,” Detective Jackson said from somewhere to my right. “He knew to switch the chairs back.”
“He had me convinced when he waited for me to tell him what to do,” Officer Marks said. “There was no logical reason for him to only follow my instructions. I mean, how did the dog know I was Officer Marks?”
“I don't know about the rest of you, but I am convinced Red has an above average understanding of what people are saying to him. For that reason alone, I would be willing to approve his addition to the task force team. What is still unresolved is whether he talks to you, and that skill is also a reason you were recommended by Detective Stephens,” the lieutenant revealed in a tone very close to a challenge.
“Whisper a secret to him. It can be a name, location, quote… whatever. Say it low enough I can't hear. Red and I can communicate as far as thirty feet away. I can hear if he projects his thoughts from the next room.”
“Are we done with the Marks Says game?” Red asked.
“Yes. Would you go with the lieutenant so we can get the mind-speak proved? Then we can find out how we might be able to help.”
“Then are we going to dinner? David promised me steak.”
I turned to David. “What's this about steak? You are completely ruining his diet. I'll have a fat dog if you keep promising snacks in between meals.”
“Tattle-tale,” David spoke toward the floor, “I told you that was our secret. Back to kibble for you.”
Red threw himself on the floor at my feet and made a production of rolling over such that he half-lay across my foot so I'd know he was on his back, abasing himself. “I'll waste away,” he whined dramatically, “I’m shwwwinking to nothing.”
“Oh cut it out, knucklehead,” I addressed the con artist on my shoe. “You weigh almost eighty pounds. You’re hardly wasting away. And you are not shrinking.”
His head rubbed my shin, and he even licked at my kneecap, “Pweeeeeze.”
I started laughing, “Pweeeze? Shwinking? Who in the heck taught you all this baby-talk?”
David started laughing, “Sounds like something Ken would say
.”
“Yeah, it figures,” I snorted, “after teaching him dude and wicked, it shouldn't surprise me in the least.
“Fine, Red can have steak. But, if you insist on slipping him food, then I fully expect you to come over at least once a week to run his ass off in the backyard playing catch.”
Red snapped to his feet, “Yes!”
“Well,” Lt. Faber said, “after witnessing that little display of drama, asking Red to follow me to the next room seems redundant. Come on Red, let’s make this quick.”
From the other room, Red said, “It doesn't make sense.”
“So what? Just tell me what she's saying.” I replied.
“Como say yamma?” Red repeated phonetically.
I chuckled, then answered loudly enough the lieutenant would be able to hear me, “She is speaking in Spanish. It means 'what's my name?'”
“She wants to know my birthday.”
“Halloween, that's why your AKC papers name you Druid, we were using Halloween themes for the puppies in your litter.”
I was done with the tests. “Come on back Red, and let’s finish up here.”
“I am most impressed, Ms. March. Thank you for humoring us. This has been absolutely fascinating. I've never seen anything like Red and his reasoning ability. We would welcome your help with the task force. Detective Stephens can give you an outline, hopefully enough for you to make a decision as to whether you think your skills can work for us. Unfortunately, we don't know Mr. Preston and he's not cleared for this discussion.”
“Lt. Faber, I certainly understand and sympathize with your position, but the facts are Ms. March will probably discuss anything you talk about with me, and likely Sebastian Declan as well. Bas and I served together; we are both ex-Navy intelligence with clearances high enough to get us in any top security job we qualify for. Teresa’s safety, and the safety of her dog, are of the utmost importance to us. We have the training required to ensure their security.
“Three of the four of us will be together whenever you need Red and Ms. March. If I'm not available, Bas will be with her. She's a capable woman, but she can't tell if someone outside the task force notices their abilities. Therefore, she will be at risk of being overheard or seen doing something uncommon. Bas and I can minimize the risk; the four of us have a familiarity, and communication system in place, to help prevent others from understanding what is going on between the two of them. We are also focused on her, rather than your investigation, leaving your officers free to do their work instead of watching out for them.”
The lieutenant seemed to come to a decision and said, “The task force is being put together to catch a rapist who has hit houses around the Whitworth University district. So far, four young women have been attacked, and the last one is still in the hospital. We have gotten no DNA evidence at any of the scenes and we are hoping the dog, Red, can pick up something. We have K-9 units in Spokane, but we think Red's ability to communicate may give us a little more information than following a trail. Maybe the rapist's scent is all over the clothing we recovered and Red can confirm the same assailant for each rape, or tell us if there is more than one. Frankly, we are stuck and we hope you might come up with something which can point us in the right direction.”
Lt. Faber's frustration was evident in her tone. “Please take the weekend and consider if you can help us. In the meantime, if I can get your personal info, Mr. Preston, and info for Mr. Declan, I can see about getting you approved as consultants, unpaid most likely, so you can accompany Ms. March if she is needed at a scene.” David stepped away from me to exchange email addresses and phone numbers. I heard him mention a list of references.
Detective Stephens took this moment to say, “The concept of asking a team of civilians to work on a task force is unusual, but it's my hope we can get you on board, in the next few days, as a consultant. I think Red's insight would be invaluable to the team.”
“I certainly hope we can help, Detective. Bastian, David, and I had discussed offering our service to the police as a way to maximize Red's gift. We are excited about the potential to help. However, I also recognize I can't keep us safe and I will need one of the guys with me so I can concentrate on working with Red. I very much hope you get the approvals on your end, so we can work together as a team.”
Chapter Twenty
Since we'd already missed our dinner reservation at Anthony's, we decided to call Bastian and invite him to join us at a local tavern where we could grab a burger and a beer. We wanted a chance to review the task force conversation with Bas to get his opinion; only fair since we were volunteering him to help when David wasn't available. I wasn't familiar with bars downtown, so we stopped at the first decent-looking one and phoned Bas.
The two men were renting a house close by and we anticipated Bastian would get there within ten minutes, so we went ahead and ordered three burgers and a pitcher of beer. He arrived before the food did, leaning over to give me a quick kiss on the hair as he slid into his seat. “Wow, you guys didn't tell me this was a fancy dress-up meeting or I would have worn boots instead of sneakers,” he joked.
“If you can't dress up for pool and darts, why bother buying the formal clothes,” I quipped right back.
“Oh man, I would love to see you shoot pool in that dress,” Bas said with heavy innuendo.
I grinned and shook my head because Bas is a letch and can't help himself. My black lace dress was an inch or so above my knee, and the V-neck was modest, showing only a hint of cleavage. I was pretty sure he couldn't see the black stockings or dainty black velvet stilettos tucked under the table. “Jerk,” I said. “You simply want to see the blind girl try to hit a cue ball, and you don't trust me with sharp darts.”
The burgers arrived and we enjoyed our food while it was hot and the beer while it was cold. I heard the sounds of eating from under the table and asked, “Alright, who is feeding Red and what are you feeding him?”
Both men were silent. “Seriously? Both of you?” I shook my head.
“There is no steak. They are substituting fries and bites of hamburger,” Red said, not sounding terribly put out at the swap.
I wasn't going to win this. “Fine,” I sighed, accepting defeat. “Don't overdo it or he'll be up all night moaning about a bellyache.”
“So,” Bas said, burger consumed as he settled back in his chair with a topped off beer, “what happened at the police station?”
David recapped our evening, with me adding occasional input from my perspective. It was interesting to hear David’s observations regarding the officers and detectives. The lieutenant was clearly the most skeptical when we'd entered the room. The fact she allowed us to prove our abilities said a lot about her level of desperation to try anything which could help them get a break in the case.
In David's opinion, Officer Willman was stubbornly holding on to his disbelief, whereas Officer Marks probably walked into the room wanting Red to succeed. Detective Jackson was the most surprised by Red's moving the chair, and that was his tipping point.”
Bas asked a few questions about Officer Blair which no doubt prompted Red to mention, “He took pictures of us on his cell phone.”
“What?” I was completely surprised. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“I didn't notice him taking the pictures. I saw his phone hooked up to the computer. All the pictures flashed up before he made the computer screen black.”
I repeated Red's information to the men. “If Blair was there to record what was said because they didn't want our session on camera, it’s hard to believe they'd want secret photos. I mean, they could have asked for some still shots.” David voiced out loud.
“I wonder if he took video also,” Bas hypothesized.
Taking our speculation a bit farther, I added, “I wonder who else in the room knew what Blair was doing. Was he taking pictures for himself? If so, why upload them instantly when he chanced getting caught? Red, did Lt. Faber see the computer screen? Did you notice any body
language between Officer Blair and any others in the room?”
“I think he was trying to hide the pictures from the lieutenant.”
“Red doesn't think the lieutenant was aware of Blair's actions,” I relayed. “David, did you get one of Detective Stephens' business cards? Maybe you can give the good detective a call about what was going on. He'll either be able to give us answers, or he'll look into it.”
“I say we decline offering any assistance to the task force unless we get a good explanation for the secretive picture-taking.” Bas suggested. “I'm especially concerned if he took any video; it opens us up to exposure we wanted to avoid. We need to know where those pictures are.”