by Diane Kelly
Caucasian. Medium build. I looked up from my pad. “What did he take?”
“Grape-flavored Tootsie Pops.”
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack,” he replied. “Stuffed a whole handful of the suckers in his pocket.” The man gestured to a purple lollipop lying on the floor of the candy aisle. “That’s one he dropped. I’s sitting here readin’ the paper when I heard it hit the floor. I looked up, saw what he was doing”—he pointed emphatically down the aisle as if pointing at the now-gone thief—“and told him to ‘hold it right there!’”
Obviously, the shoplifter hadn’t obeyed, as evidenced by the fact that he was no longer right there.
“He didn’t say one word to me,” the clerk continued. “Just hightailed it out the door as fast as he could. By the time I got around the counter and out the door after him, he’d skedaddled.”
“Did he get into a car?”
“I don’t believe so. Don’t think he’d’ve had time to get one started and pull outta the lot ’fore I got out there.”
Good point. “Maybe someone was waiting for him with the engine running,” I offered, though I thought someone waiting in a getaway car was a long shot. It was hard to comprehend that there could be a whole candy-stealing conspiracy going on.
“Suppose anything’s possible,” the man said with a shrug that said he didn’t buy the idea any more than I did.
Still, the thief had to have gotten away somehow. Had he run off on foot? I glanced at the doors. While I could see no trail, my partner’s special capabilities meant she could easily determine which way the thief and his stolen suckers had gone. I sometimes envied her superpowers. But if having her powers meant I’d have to crap in public and bathe myself with my tongue, I’d take a hard pass, thank you very much.
I gestured up at the security camera mounted high in the top corner of the wall behind the counter where it could take in most of the store. A monitor on the back counter showed the footage in real time, probably as a deterrent to would-be thieves. Of course it hadn’t deterred the Lollipop Bandit. Right now the monitor showed the clerk’s back, me gesturing to the camera, and Brigit again mouthing the bag of pork rinds below me. I nudged her face away from the bag a second time. “Can you show me the footage?” I asked the clerk.
“Sure can.”
He fiddled with his keyboard for a moment before an image popped up on the screen. Sure enough, the monitor showed a man walking into the store. The surgical cap fully covered his head and the back of his neck, making it impossible to determine his hair color. Meanwhile, the mask covered his face from just below the bridge of his nose all the way to his chin. Though the clerk hadn’t mentioned it earlier, the thief was also wearing latex gloves. No point in dusting for prints, then.
“Can you zoom in on him?” I asked.
The clerk maneuvered the mouse until the cursor was on the bandit’s face and clicked several times to enlarge the image. Unfortunately, though the thief’s eyes were visible in the narrow gap between the cap and mask, the resolution on the security camera footage was too poor to give me anything to go on.
“Any cameras outside?” I asked.
“Got ’em on the gas pumps,” he said. “But since he didn’t run past ’em they’re not gonna help ya.”
Looked like there was only one option left, and she was sitting at my feet, her eyes locked on the package of pork rinds as if she was willing them to fly off the peg and into her mouth.
I raised Brigit’s leash. “I’ll set my partner after him. See what we can find out.” I looked down at my partner. “C’mon, girl.” I led Brigit down the candy aisle to the fallen lollipop and gave her a chance to sniff the area. Once she’d taken it in, I ordered her to track.
She set off toward the door, her tail wagging. Despite being paid only in liver treats and chew toys, Brigit loved her job. To her, work was a game. I supposed it was to me, too. Each case was like a puzzle to be solved. In fact, the entire reason I’d gotten into police work was with the hope of making detective one day. Until I was eligible, I was biding my time as a beat cop and had befriended the detectives at the station, continuously picking their brains, trying to learn as much as I could from them.
I held the door open for Brigit and trailed along after her as she sniffled and snuffled her way down the front sidewalk and around the side of the building. She paused for a moment and lifted her head, scenting the cool and damp morning air before putting her nose back to the ground.
She continued through the dawn’s early light, proudly hailing passersby as we made our way up Henderson, heading toward the hospitals. She went in one direction for a few feet, stopped to snuffle more intently, then headed off in another. As we drew closer to the hospital building, she repeated this behavior several more times. No wonder. There was a lot of foot traffic around the building, people coming and going. Surely it must be hard to stay on a track with so many scents and trails coming together and overlapping. But if any dog could do it, it was Brigit. She hadn’t graduated first in her training class for nothing.
I issued words of encouragement. “Good job, girl. Good job.”
We passed several people in scrubs and others in regular clothing as she led me past the multilevel parking garage. Next thing I knew, she was heading up to the automated sliding doors of Cook Children’s Hospital and into the emergency room waiting area. People and children looked up as we came inside. A young girl who’d been mid-wail stopped for a moment to eye us before resuming her cry. Waaaah!
When Brigit trotted across the room and approached double doors marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, I ordered her to stop. She turned and looked at me as if to say but we’re not done yet! Maybe not, but taking a dog into a nonpublic area of a hospital seemed extreme, especially when the only thing at stake was a few grape lollipops valued at a mere two or three dollars. Besides, even though I had little doubt the thief had come this way—after all, Brigit’s nose was virtually foolproof—there was no guarantee he was still in the building. Knowing the clerk had spotted him and likely called law enforcement, he might have cut through the ER as an evasive ploy. For all I knew, he’d exited the hospital elsewhere. He could be anywhere by now.
As I wound Brigit’s leash tighter around my hand, the receptionist at the desk cast me a look mixed with interest and irritation. “Can I help you, Officer?”
“Maybe.” I stepped over to her desk. “Did you see a man in green scrubs come through here a few minutes ago?”
“I’ve seen a dozen men in green scrubs come through here in the last few minutes.”
“This one would have been average-sized. Maybe wearing a mask and cap and gloves.” If he hadn’t removed them.
The woman raised her palms. “You’ve just described the majority of the hospital staff. We’re in the middle of the shift change, too. Everyone’s coming and going.”
In other words, she couldn’t help me narrow things down. Darn.
She cocked her head. “Were you and your dog tracking someone? Do I need to alert security?”
“It’s nothing serious,” I said. No sense getting everyone worked up over a few lollipops when there were much more important things at stake here, like sick kids. “Have a good day.”
As those waiting watched, I led Brigit back outside. The early morning seemed extra dark in contrast to the bright lights of the hospital, and I paused for a moment to give my eyes time to adjust. Once they did, we jogged back to the store. Other than the time we’d spent at Adriana’s and Ryan’s, Brigit and I had been sitting on our butts in the cruiser most of the night. We could both use the exercise.
The clerk looked up as we came back through the door. “Any luck?”
“She led me to the children’s hospital, but we had to abandon the search there. Dogs aren’t exactly welcome in sterile environments and I couldn’t be sure he’d still be in the building.”
“Thanks for trying,” he said.
I nodded in acknowledg
ment. “I’ll type up a report. If there are any developments, I’ll let you know. And if you see this guy again, give us a call.”
With that, I turned to go, but not before Brigit used her teeth to pluck the bag of pork rinds from the peg and trotted toward the door with them.
The man chuckled. “Looks like we’ve got another shoplifter.”
“This dog has a mind of her own sometimes.”
When I pulled out some cash to pay for the snack, he raised a hand to stop me. “On the house. She’s earned it.”
As if she understood, Brigit looked back at him, batted her eyes, and wagged her tail in appreciation. I offered a verbal thanks.
With that, we returned to the cruiser. I loaded Brigit into her enclosure, tore open the bag of pork rinds, and poured them into her bowl. While she happily began crunching away, I set back out on patrol.
Brigit was snoring loud enough to wake the dead when my cell phone rang a few minutes later. The readout indicated it was Detective Hector Bustamente. I’d left a voice mail on his office line after leaving Adriana’s the second time, inquiring whether he might have some time to meet with me this morning.
I jabbed the button to accept the call. “Thanks for calling me back, Detective.”
“I came to the station early to get a head start on the day. Come by whenever you can.”
“I’m on my way.”
NINE
DAYDREAMS
Brigit
As soon as she’d polished off the pork rinds, Brigit had lain down in her enclosure for a nap. Now, she was running through the woods, chasing a white-tailed bunny and gaining on the stupid, big-eared pest, when the cruiser rocked to a stop and woke her, putting an end to her dreams. Rats.
She opened her eyes and lifted her head. The world had a pale yellow glow. She knew that meant it would soon be morning. Usually that was the time she and Megan came to work. But sometimes, like last night, they worked while it was dark and went home when the sun came up. Brigit liked those days. Megan would sleep into the afternoon and Brigit could get away with doing things Megan didn’t normally allow her to do. Helping herself to food from the pantry. Chewing on the legs of the kitchen table to clean and sharpen her teeth. Licking the sofa pillows just for the heck of it.
Megan opened the back of the cruiser and Brigit hopped down to the asphalt. It was cool now, thank goodness. Later in the day it would be uncomfortably hot on the pads of her paws. Megan had bought some type of booties to protect Brigit’s feet, but they felt weird and Brigit didn’t like to wear them. Besides, the booties had made better chew toys.
Megan clipped the leash onto Brigit’s collar and led her into the station. As they walked down the hall, Officer Eklund and his Belgian Malinois, Brutus, approached from the other direction.
As their human partners exchanged greetings, Brutus turned his snout toward Brigit and sniffed her mouth. You got bacon? And pork rinds, too? Lucky bitch.
Brigit whipped out her tongue and swiped it across Brutus’s lips. Might as well give the poor dog a taste.
He licked her back, sticking his tongue all the way into her mouth.
Officer Eklund laughed. “Get a room, you two.”
TEN
BASKING IN THE GLOW
The Devoted One
Given that the Devoted One had slept little last night, it would be normal to feel tired this morning. But today, basking in the glow of the early-morning sun felt good. The rays seemed hopeful, promising.
Surely there’d be some contact after last night. An e-mail or text or phone call or, better yet, a personal visit. There had to be questions. Why would you do this to me? What do you want from me? How can I stop this?
The Devoted One sighed. I did this because I love you. I want you back. I’ll stop once you’re mine again.
Yes, it was a new day, and that meant the Devoted One was that much closer to reclaiming their lost love.
That love would be reclaimed.
Any alternative was unthinkable and unacceptable.
But, above all, it would be unforgivable.
ELEVEN
WHAT NOW?
Megan
After greeting Officer Eklund and his K-9 Brutus in the hallway, I led Brigit down the corridor to the detective’s office and rapped on the door-frame. Rap-rap.
Detective Bustamente sat behind his desk. With his portly build, wrinkled clothing, and laid-back manner, it might be tempting to write the guy off as lazy and dim. Doing so would be a grave error. While he might not give his attire much attention, he didn’t miss a detail when it came to his investigations. He reserved his energy for his work. And while he might appear relaxed, he was always exercising his mental muscle.
He looked up from the tower of files on his desk. “Good mornin’, ladies. How was your shift?”
“It was…” Confusing? Perplexing? Disturbing? I went with, “Interesting.”
Knowing Detective Bustamente was always good for a scratch, Brigit circled around the desk, plunked her hindquarters down at his feet, and looked up at him.
He reached out both hands to scratch behind her ears and lowered his nose to hers. “How are you, Sergeant Brigit?”
My partner wagged her tail and licked his cheek to let him know she was doing just fine, thanks, and hoped he was doing the same.
I set the separately bagged bricks and shoes on the desk and slid into one of the chairs. When Bustamente turned his attention from my partner to me, I launched into a quick review of the night’s events. “I took a call last night and I’m not sure what to make of it.” I explained about the brick and the footprints at Adriana’s place, then moved on to the shoes and bricks at Ryan’s. “It looked obvious to me at first. Like he’d thrown the brick through the window and hadn’t made any effort to hide the evidence of his guilt. But then he told me he’d left his shoes at Adriana’s when they’d broken up, and that she’d attacked him last week. He had claw marks on his neck that he claimed were made by her. But when I went back to her house to ask about things, she said she’d never attacked him and that he was into some unusual sexual activities, and that’s probably how he got the claw marks.”
“Kinky sex, huh?” Bustamente didn’t bat an eye. After all his years on the job, nothing surprised him anymore.
I went on. “Adriana said she didn’t bother fighting the protective order because it would have cost money to hire an attorney and she didn’t mind being ordered to stay away from someone she didn’t want to see, anyway. Also, she couldn’t take off from work on the day of the hearing.”
“That sounds like a valid explanation.” He seemed to mull things over for a moment. “Either of them got a record?”
“No.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Was last night the first time we’ve been called?”
I shook my head. “Ryan called the police after Adriana allegedly attacked him. Adriana said she called a few days ago when someone threw a tennis ball at her car during the night and set off the alarm. Officer Mackey handled the call.”
“And?”
“Adriana says he told her there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant any follow-up.”
Bustamente reached for his keyboard, tapped a few keys, and leaned in to read Officer Mackey’s report. Having perused the short post before leaving Adriana’s house the first time, I knew it would be of little help. Mackey had put in a minimum amount of information, and had managed to misspell at least one word per sentence. Victim reports car alarm going of. Beleives that her ex-boyfriend thru tennis bal at car. No wintesses.
The detective snorted. “Mackey’s no Hemingway, that’s for sure.” Bustamente was silent for a long moment, nodding slowly as the wheels of his mind seemed to be turning. He held out a hand. “Let me see the photo you took of the footprints.”
I retrieved my phone from my pocket, pulled up the first photo on the screen, and handed it to him.
He stared down at the photo for a few seconds before tweaking the screen to enlarge the pic. �
��These prints seem exceptionally complete and clear.” He looked up at me. “It hasn’t rained recently. Where did the mud come from?”
“Adriana’s garden,” I said. “She raises her own vegetables. She works as a dietitian at a rehab center. Her ex claims she’s an excessive health nut.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” Bustamente said. He turned his attention to the bagged shoes. “What’s that squished on the sole?”
“A tomato,” I said. “Or a tomahto. From her garden. I didn’t tell her I’d found the shoes at Downey’s apartment. He claimed he’d left them at her house when they broke up weeks ago and that she must have brought them back last night to frame him. I suppose it’s possible he might have left them outside since they were muddy, but his apartment was a pigsty. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would worry much about mud on his shoes. He also said he would have worn booties over his shoes if he were going to be creeping around her place. He uses them on his job as a cable installer.”
Bustamente tilted his head to one side, then the other, as if mentally weighing the evidence and arguments. When his head went straight again, I supposed it meant he, too, wasn’t yet leaning one way or the other. He eyed the smushed blob of tomato for a moment before gesturing to my partner. “Did you have Brigit track?”
“I did. She didn’t seem to find a trail leading out of the backyard. Either the culprit climbed over the side fence or—”
“The culprit was Adriana herself so the trail led right back to her side door.”
“Exactly.”
He glanced down at Brigit. “Too bad you can’t tell us if you smelled Downey at the house.”
She cocked her head as if trying to understand him. It wasn’t the first time I wished she spoke English so we could communicate better. She knew more than she could tell us. I knew it.
Bustamente patted her head before turning back to me. “I’ll send a crime scene tech out to take a closer look at the footprints.”
“Great. I’ll let Adriana know someone’s coming.”