by Muth, Becky
Winters, on the other hand, gave the woman his undivided attention. Trapped between the curvy female and the wall, Kurt felt an intense feeling of panic rush his senses. Between the well-wishers, the flirty firefighter, the video going viral—it was all too much. He struggled to take a breath and felt beads of sweat forming across his forehead.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go,” Kurt interrupted the woman next to him with as much politeness as he could muster.
“Seriously, K.C.? Where do you need to go?”
“Just need to be somewhere, okay?”
Winters snickered. “You’re going to meet up with that woman from the video, aren’t you?”
“I don’t even know who she is.” Kurt glared at his partner. Turning to the woman, he urged, “Excuse me, please.”
The firefighter stood, planting herself next to the table. She started to offer Kurt her number, but he turned and walked toward the exit. The last thing he heard her say was, “But I never saw any woman in that video.”
* * *
Kurt parked his jeep in front of his apartment building and checked the time on his phone. He left the device on silent mode after his shift ended and felt overwhelmed that he had missed over a dozen calls and had hundreds of text messages.
Exiting his vehicle, Kurt grabbed the backpack he used for work from the backseat, tossing it over his shoulder, and headed for the front entrance to the building.
A family who lived on the floor below him was coming out as he reached the door. After several minutes of polite conversation about the video on Reel Life, he excused himself and fled inside to the elevator. Kurt paced a few steps in either direction until the doors began to open, revealing residents packed tighter than sardines.
One couple looked his way, their faces alight with excitement. The person next to them pointed in his direction. Avoiding any more interrogation about the viral video, Kurt made a mad dash for the stairwell and jogged up to the floor that held his apartment.
He made it too his floor, down the hall, and into his apartment without bumping into anyone else. Locking both the deadbolt and the chain, he went to the living room where he collapsed onto his black leather sofa. He peered across the room at the pair of Oscars swimming in a 75-gallon aquarium.
“So, how’s it going? Yeah? Another carefree day in paradise? Glad to hear it,” Kurt held a one-sided conversation with his aquatic friends.
After a few minutes of waiting for his anxiety to calm itself, he picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. An announcer’s voice teased, “And be sure to tune into Good Morning Gold Coast tomorrow. Dash Diamond and his super pup, Star, will share tips for safe surfing inspired by this viral video posted to Reel Life earlier today.”
Kurt pressed the button on the remote to turn the television off and lay back, staring at the ceiling. “Awesome. It’s bad enough that there’s a video of a random dog dragging me from shark-infested waters. Now a second dog is going to promote the video on the most popular morning show on television. Can this get any more humiliating?”
An idea hit Kurt and he sat up, staring at the aquarium. “Wait, that’s it. I need to find her and apologize. It should be easy, right? I’ll look through the comments on the Reel Life post that has the video.”
Chapter Five
Peyton’s phone blasted the chorus of a They Might be Giants song about the elements. Recognizing the ringtone she had assigned to her brother, she stopped walking to answer the call. Gilda flopped on the ground at her human’s feet.
“Owen? Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Hello to you, too, and I’m fine.”
“What happened to you yesterday? You completely disappeared.” Stepping around her dog, she continued walking, picking up stray toys along the flagstone pathway leading up to the house. Upon reaching the back porch, she dropped Gilda’s playthings into a wicker basket and sank into one of the two patio chairs.
Her brother’s sigh transferred loud and clear from the other end of the call. “I had to take off for a meeting I forgot about.”
“You couldn’t text me?”
“It’s about the grant money for this thing I’m working on. I knew you’d get in touch if you had problems with anything, which you obviously didn’t. Hey, did Gilda end up helping you find your way out of the building?”
“No, smarty pants. I followed the exit signs back to the entrance.” Peyton watched Gilda roll in the grass on her back before rolling over, springing to her feet, and chasing her tail.
“See? I told you that you would be fine.”
Unwilling to argue the point, Peyton changed the topic. “Gilda and I need your help this afternoon. Are you free?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
* * *
An hour later Peyton parked her Mini Cooper in the shade of a redwood tree at the state park. Gilda woofed with excitement as Owen, Gilda, and Peyton exited the car. Before shutting the door, Peyton grabbed a knapsack from the back seat. She pressed the lock button on her keyless entry fob, giving a satisfied nod when she heard the horn beep confirming that the security engaged to protect her prized possession.
Owen looked up at the towering redwoods. “Wow. It’s been forever since we’ve been out here.”
“I know. It’s been a while for a lot of things.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Yeah. You haven’t helped me train Gilda or dropped by with a pizza on Friday nights, or had more than a five-minute conversation with me in forever.” Once she started sharing her feelings, Peyton found it hard it stop. “You’ve grown more distant lately and it feels wrong. We used to talk about anything and everything. Now I hardly hear from you. What's going on?”
“For years, you pushed me to have my own life and now that I do, you're mad?”
Peyton winced at the sting of truth in her brother’s reply. “I didn’t mean it that way. Yes, you can have your own life. It feels as if you’re slipping away, though. Since mom and dad died, you’re all I’ve got.”
“Everything’s fine, Peyton. I have a lot going on with this project at work and it’s taking up almost all my free time. I won’t slip away, though, and if I do, you can always find me. Here. I’ll prove it.” Removing his hat, Owen handed it to Peyton. “Give me a ten-minute head start, okay?”
Unable to speak, Peyton nodded and swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat as her brother disappeared into the woods. When the ten minutes had passed, she held the well-loved hat out to Gilda, giving her the target scent. Gilda put her nose near the accessory and inhaled deeply.
“Are you ready, girl?” Peyton asked. Gilda danced in place, her golden fur gleaming in the afternoon sun. “Go find, Gilda. Go find Owen!”
The golden retriever took off, zig-zagging down the trail, her nose sniffing the air as it led the rest of her body until she picked up Owen’s scent. Once she had it, she veered from the dirt path into the forest, leading Peyton deeper into the woods. Following a good distance behind to avoid compromising the search, she felt a rush of pride when Gilda barked to signal that she had found her target. The dog ran back toward Peyton, jumping up and using her paw to tap her owner's shoulder.
“Did you find him, girl? Show me. C’mon, show me where to find him,” Peyton encouraged Gilda in a high-pitched voice. The dog bounded away, stopping every few feet and looking over her shoulder to make sure her human was in tow. After a short hike through the woods, Gilda led Peyton behind a redwood where Owen was hiding.
Grabbing a stick, Peyton exclaimed, “Good girl! You’re such a good girl, Gilda. Here, want the stick? Go chase the stick!” It was only after she threw the stick into a nearby clearing that she addressed her brother.
"Found you."
“She’s gotten quicker,” Owen observed as he watched the dog.
“Well, she has had practice.”
"And I have every newspaper clipping to back it up."
Gilda rushed back and drop
ped the stick at Peyton’s feet. Before she could pick up the stick again, Owen grabbed it and threw it overhand to the far side of the clearing.
Peyton stared at her brother, who was gazing off into the woods. “Are you okay, Owen? I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“You don’t seem like yourself. Did something happen while we were looking for you?”
“No, it’s fine. I just have a lot going on with work.” A loud chirp erupted from Owen’s phone and Gilda returned with the stick. “I need to take this. Let's meet up back at the car.”
Peyton watched her brother walk in the direction of the trail. He answered his phone, but his voice was too low for her to make out any intelligible conversation. The stick nudging the side of her leg drew her attention downward. “Okay, my lovely girl. One more time and then we have to go.” Peyton wrestled the stick away and threw it a final time. She couldn't help but smile as the golden retriever romped after it.
* * *
Back inside the car, Peyton glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Gilda safely in her safety harness. Curled up on the backseat, the dog was moments away from sleep.
“Sorry.” Owen relaxed against the passenger seat. “I was rude. You didn’t deserve it. Let’s pick up a pizza on the way back to your place. My treat. You can get your half with pineapple and I’ll even spring for extra garlic knots for Gilda.”
“Even though it’s not Friday?”
Owen repeated, “Even though it’s not Friday.”
“Fine.” Peyton backed her car out of the space and drove toward the highway.
Owen pressed, “And I want to know everything that’s going on with you. Anything exciting happen lately?”
“Not so much exciting as annoying.” Peyton relayed the incident on the beach with the surfer. “He was such a jerk. The moron didn’t appreciate her saving his life one bit.”
“Are you still running on the beach?”
“I would, but I don’t want to run into him. We’ve been going to the dog park instead.”
“The one by the water?”
“Yeah. We go out there and play fetch, or Gilda plays tag with the other dogs. Running into her siblings is always fun, and it’s a great photo op for her Reel Life account.”
“So, are you going to train Gilda for water rescue?”
“I'm thinking about it. It's funny because I didn't expect she would. You know, since Belle never showed much inclination for it. When I adopted Gilda, all I could think about was how much she resembled Belle, but they're so different, personality-wise."
"It sounds like she's got instincts for it."
"Yeah, I mean, it’s worth checking into. I can ask the various search and rescue groups for feedback. Oh, and speaking of feedback, Professor Mason emailed me great comments from her students. Hey, and let me know if you’d like me to come talk to your new students next semester.”
“Meh.”
“Meh what?”
“Teaching is overrated. I’m thinking about switching careers.”
“Wait. You’re serious?”
“Maybe move out of the area. Try living someplace else.”
Peyton tried to hide the shock she felt at hearing the news and worried her expression might betray her. She forced a smile. “What prompted this?”
“I’m not sure if I want to teach the rest of my life. It's the only real job I've ever had if you don't count pizza delivery. Which I don't. Besides, I'll be thirty-five soon.”
“Oh yeah, bro. You’re really going over the hill and picking up speed. Next, you’ll be telling me that you’ve signed up for Sunday afternoon bingo at the VFW. Or that you've started getting your prescriptions in the mail. Good one, Owen. I almost believed you for a few minutes.” Peyton howled with laughter, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. When her mirth settled to a few errant giggles, she asked, “Okay, on a more serious note, what toppings do we want on our pizza?”
Chapter Six
Kurt sat in the passenger seat of the patrol car, cell phone in hand. He waited until his partner disappeared into the busy coffee shop before opened the Reel Life app. All I have to do is search through who shared the video and see if anyone tagged the woman in it. Shouldn’t take too long. He was still searching for any clue about the woman’s identity when Winters returned to the car half an hour later.
“Every time you watch that, your ego grows a little more.”
“That’s not why I’m watching, Snowball.” Kurt looked up to see that his partner held a cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee and a white bakery box. A red and white striped string held the container closed.
Winters challenged, “Then what is it, K.C.? In all the time we’ve worked together, I’ve never seen you obsess over anything. Is it the woman from the beach?”
“Ugh, no. It’s not her.” Except it was her.
“Then what is it?”
“I can’t stop thinking about what a close call that was. We expect to get hurt on the job but not in our free time.” When his partner didn’t respond right away, Kurt noticed his tilted head and thoughtful expression and asked, “What?”
“Your dad really gets under your skin.”
“Look, I’m just glad someone was in the right place at the right time, because it sure wasn’t me.” Kurt watched the last few seconds before closing the app and slipping the phone into the breast pocket of his shirt. He accepted the coffee from his partner and his stomach growled as he glanced at the box. “Donuts?”
“Even better. It’s one of those giant donuts that’s the size of a coffee cake. And here’s the best part. It’s fresh from the oven. The lady was taking a batch out when I got there.”
Kurt laughed, thinking his partner sounded as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. “You know, we’ll never buck the stereotype about cops and donuts if people see us eating this.”
“I don’t care, K.C. You let them talk all they want. We’ve gotta eat, right?” Winters opened the box and the sweet aroma of the ginormous donut permeated the inside of the car.
“Can’t argue with that, and it smells amazing.”
“Did you grab forks or are we eating this with our hands? I mean, I’m okay with either.”
“Oops, almost forgot.” Winters was handing Kurt a fork from his back pocket when the radio in the car crackled.
Unit 715, we’ve got a complaint of suspicious activity. Requesting the closest available unit to check it out. The static-filled voice went on to give a brief description of the suspect and an address.
Winters looked at Kurt. “Why are they calling us? Didn’t you call us in for a Code Seven?”
“Ugh, no. Sorry, I didn’t. I meant to do it after watching the video, but, well.” Kurt’s shoulders slumped. The men and women in the department used Code Seven as a reference for taking a short break. “I guess I lost track of time.” There’s no way I can tell him I was watching the video and scrolling through the comments for any clues about the woman from the beach.
“Tell me again how you aren’t obsessed with the Reel Life app.” Winters set his coffee cup in his designated driver’s side cup holder between the seats and Kurt used the other one.
“Sorry, Snowball.”
“No worries. We can eat later. You just be sure to guard that with your life.” Winters handed the box over and Kurt set it on the floor between his feet.
“Consider it done.” Kurt patted the holstered gun on his hip. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he asked, “What do you want to bet it’s those lost tourists from yesterday again?”
Winters snorted. He continued driving without using the vehicle’s lights or sirens. It was rare that a complaint of suspicious activity turned out to be a real emergency, but the officers kept their guard up all the same. Past experiences, both their own and those of their fellow co-workers, had taught Winters and Kurt to treat every situation on the job as a matter of life and death.
The destination turned out to be an alley between two brick buildings
. Winters pulled the car at an angle to help block the entrance to the alleyway and killed the engine. The midday sun banished shadows from the narrow space, giving the officers a clear view of two men in close conversation with one another.
“Well if it isn’t Phil the pill.” Kurt stared through the windshield, focusing on the lanky man leaning against the dumpster. Brick buildings on either side created a convenient dead end, trapping their suspect. Even without Phil’s torn jeans, leather jacket, and neck tattoo, Kurt would have pegged him as a thug.
Winters stared down the man Kurt referred to, narrowing his gaze through the windshield of the patrol car. “Figures that piece of trash would be hanging out by the dumpster. Isn’t he on probation?”
“You know, I think he is. And who’s that with him? New customer?” Kurt took a quick stock of the second man. Average height. Average build. Nondescript features. Looks like your standard undergrad. I doubt I could pick him out of a lineup of frat boys. That was another thing he wouldn’t admit to Winters.
“I’d bet that giant donut on it. Let’s go check it out.” Without waiting for a response, Winters exited the car and Kurt followed suit. Together, they approached the men.
As the officers approached, Phil smirked at the uniformed men but made no move to escape. “Lo, gentlemen.” Phil acknowledged their presence with a tight smile. Turning to the other man, he stuck out his hand. “You hit me up later tonight and I’ll have more information about the subject to which you inquired, if you get my meaning.”
Kurt watched the other man palm something into the handshake, after which Phil stuck his hands straight into the pocket of his baggy jeans.
The other man shuffled his weight from one foot to another. “No problem. Let our, ah, mutual friend know that I’ll have that, um, information for him by this weekend.” When Phil nodded, his acquaintance fled toward the street.