While court appearances were part of Kate’s duties, they certainly weren’t her favorite way to start the day. But she loved the rest of the job, so she took them in stride.
“Officer Murphy, please relay what happened,” the judge asked.
Using the facts she’d memorized from the photocopied documents minutes earlier, she began providing the details of the routine traffic stop.
When Kate paused for a second, the judge asked, “How long before Mr. Fartozi pulled over?”
“As I recall, it was until the first available spot appeared.”
“Specifics, Officer Murphy?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Let me double-check my notes.”
Out of habit, she reached for the notepad in her pocket and opened it, ignoring the photocopied documents in front of her.
That was when Kate realized something was wrong. Very wrong.
No matter how many times she flipped through the pages in her official notebook, she couldn’t find page 14. Her clip was on page 15. The one before said 13.
What the fuck? Who the heck had touched it? Who had ripped a page out of it?
“Sorry,” Kate said, flipping back to page three. Thankfully, she didn’t need the missing page right now. But she’d still have to figure out what had happened to it later and hope to hell that she never had to testify in court for whatever she’d noted down on it.
“The vehicle pulled over right after the intersection of Columbia and Devon Street, which is three street blocks from the speed trap location.”
“Thank you, Officer Murphy. Please continue.”
With the photocopies in front of her, Kate relayed the rest of the relevant facts and answered the judge’s questions as he voiced them during her testimony.
“Do you have anything else to report?” he asked after all the pertinent details had been brought to court.
“No, Your Honor,” Kate said.
“Thank you. You can return to your seat.”
The judge asked Mr. Fartozi if he’d like to testify, but the short bald man rose and turned down his offer.
“Does Mr. Fartozi have other charges on his driving record?”
Kate stood up and shook her head. “Other than the unpaid parking tickets, I didn’t find anything else in Mr. Fartozi’s file.”
Shortly thereafter, the judge issued a license suspension, fine, and a mandatory defensive driving program to Mr. Fartozi.
With Kate’s court duties over and out of the way, she left the courthouse and returned to the station, puzzled as ever. She knew she had paperwork to complete, and she also had to get back out on the streets, but the missing page was top of her mind.
Who’d had access to her notepad? Someone must have gone through her locker at work or her clothing at home. So, was it a co-worker or Matt? And why?
Who stood to gain anything from ripping a page out of her official notebook?
Sitting at a desk, as she flipped her pad open to page 15, she noticed very slight indents on it. Someone had written something—a string of numbers?—on page 14 before ripping it out. Kate had to find out what had been written there, so she grabbed a pencil and gently scratched the surface of page 15 with the lead.
Her own handwriting hadn’t been pronounced enough to make out what she’d written, but whoever had jotted down the numbers had done so with more force.
It was a local phone number beginning with area code 617.
Without hesitation, Kate picked up the landline at the desk and dialed the number.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then a nasally female voice picked up. “Good afternoon, Gisele’s Salon. How may I help you?”
“Sorry, wrong number,” Kate said before hanging up, even more bewildered than she’d been before. She proceeded to look up Gisele’s Salon for its address.
Who would write a salon’s number on my official pad and then rip the page off?
Sure, some of her co-workers were asses, but they knew not to mess with a legal document. And for a hair salon? There was only one other female cop and they barely ever crossed paths. No way she’d mess with Kate’s notepad.
Her husband? Why the heck would he note down a salon’s number? It’s not like he had long hair that required services beyond what his regular barbershop could provide.
None of these options made sense.
Could the lady who picked up the phone be the blonde chick that Bower had bragged about banging a few days earlier?
Now, that would be the last straw.
Kate spent most of her days scoping out bathroom locations in between calls. She kept extra garbage bags in her car and extra tissues in her uniform. She also walked around with a nearly endless supply of strong, minty Halls and Tic Tacs, which helped with both her breath and her nausea. Her monthly budget was certainly going to suffer, but she’d make it work.
Thankfully, she was on dayshift, which meant she didn’t have a partner due to budget cuts. More single patrol officers meant the district had doubled the number of cars that could be dispatched to answer calls. The increased vehicle maintenance was a tiny drop in the bucket compared to adding more officers to the payroll. She wasn’t sure how she would have explained all the vomiting to a shift mate.
While she sometimes wished she had a partner, so Bower wouldn’t be the other unit that showed up half the time, she had yet to encounter a situation for which she’d felt unprepared. And for that, she thanked the universe every day. She knew being a cop was inherently dangerous, but she was willing to live with that. If being a cop could help prevent violence and save other children from experiencing what she had seen as a teenager when her family was murdered, then it was all worth it.
Now that she knew why she was sick, she’d started paying attention to which smells triggered her need to vomit: canned tuna and sardines, most perfumes, and, for some reason, freshly baked garlic bread. She’d also googled the heck out of morning sickness and found out that ginger ale and lollipops could help her stomach. (But sucking on the latter while in uniform was a big no-no, unfortunately.)
While manning yet another speed trap—this one near a shopping mall—she used her cellphone to research her abortion options. Knowing more about it should help her make an informed decision.
Massachusetts had legalized it, but it could only be done up to twenty-four weeks.
Why do pregnant people think in weeks instead of months like regular people?
She did the math: five and a half months. She still had time. She had no idea when the baby had been conceived, though. She and Matt typically had sex twice a week, though their sex life had changed over the past year. Long gone were their romantic evenings. And so was foreplay. Sex had become a mechanical act. She now understood why some people referred to making love as part of their marital duties.
All she knew was that she’d only missed one of her periods. The fetus wasn’t older than eight weeks.
She’d probably have to see a doctor to determine the conception date. But the second she went to a doctor, she’d have to explain her absence either at work or at home, neither of which sounded good.
How the heck did this happen?
Kate was growing bored, waiting for a traffic violation to draw her out of her spot, when the dispatcher requested her current location and status.
A second after she reported her speed trap position, the dispatcher spoke up again, “Harry-145, proceed to Ronan Park. Dead cat on the side of Mount Ida Road.”
“I’m about ten minutes away. Heading over now.”
As she made her way to the park, she pondered why it hadn’t been an open call as per usual. And for a crappy dead cat?
Oh!
The dispatcher was Andrews, one of Bower’s buddies. It all made sense now.
So not cool. Another one of Bower’s practical jokes.
Last month he’d done the transparent plastic wrapper on the toilet seat. The month before that, he’d switched the salt and sugar in the break room. While those hadn’t been aimed at her directly, she’d fallen for them.
But this one? It was personal. And all she’d done to upset him was do her job by the book. Following procedures—and rubbing Bower the wrong way—had landed her this crappy call.
Let’s hope it’s just the one.
Ronan Park was a nice, large park, and the silly call would give her a chance to breathe in some fresh air. There were much nicer green spaces in and around Boston, but Ronan wasn’t the worst either, especially within Dorchester.
Right after parking her vehicle, she spotted a group of people who had gathered near the edge of the park on Mount Ida Road. They appeared to be chit-chatting among themselves, so Kate walked toward them.
“Officer! I’m the one who called,” a chubby woman wearing yoga pants and a lime green T-shirt said loudly, waving her hand in the air as she jogged toward Kate. Her brown hair had been tied in a ponytail that bobbed up and down as she approached Kate.
“I found a dead cat,” she said when she reached Kate. “A bunch of birds were pecking at it, but I don’t think they’re the ones who killed it. They certainly did a lot of damage, though. There’s a hole in the poor cat.”
“Did you call the municipality?” Kate asked.
“No, I called 9-1-1.”
“For a dead cat?”
The woman frowned at Kate, apparently confused.
“Let’s have a look,” Kate said as she followed the woman’s lead and headed toward the small group of people a hundred yards away.
“What’s your name?” Kate asked on the walk over.
“Mariana Edwards.”
As they reached the dead animal lying on a bed of gravel near a small landscaping wall, a slender brunette wearing nothing but black moved over to make room for Kate. In doing so, the goth brunette pushed a tall, scrawny blond man in overalls and bright red shoes out of their little circle. A young blond boy with a buzz cut and a faded-out superhero T-shirt was poking at an orange cat with a stick, a wide grin on his face.
“That’s a dead cat indeed,” Kate said while trying to ignore the disgusting scent and turning her attention back to the woman next to her. “Ms. Edwards, do you mind stepping aside with me?”
The woman nodded and followed Kate.
When they were out of earshot from the other people, Kate spoke up again.
“Listen. 9-1-1 is for emergencies. Real life-or-death situations, you know? If people start calling for things like dead animals, it’ll clog the lines, and real emergencies won’t be answered in time. Do you understand?”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Officer.”
“Don’t worry about it, but try not to do it again. Do you have a cellphone?”
The woman nodded at Kate, taking a black device out of her pocket.
“All you need to do is dial 3-1-1 and then report it. Someone at Animal Control will handle it.”
“Okay, should I do that then?” the woman asked, her cheeks a little red.
“Like I said. No harm done this time. But please go ahead and call them now.”
Kate could have easily called Animal Control herself, but she believed that citizens also had to do their part. They learned best by doing. If the woman called 3-1-1 this once, she’d be more likely to remember and do it later, if required.
Kate started walking away toward her patrol car as she overheard the woman reporting it via the proper channels. Kate pressed her radio button to update the dispatcher.
“Harry-145, stay on the scene. Pick up by Animal Control isn’t sufficient. A full report is required,” Andrews said.
Kate rolled her eyes. Really?
She could have sworn she heard Andrews giggle on the radio right before the static kicked in, but she knew better than to try to argue with the dispatcher.
Bower. This is his idea.
Here we go. Let the useless paperwork fest begin.
Kate walked back to the woman who had since put away her phone.
“I reported it; they’re sending someone to pick it up. Should I do something else?” Ms. Edwards asked.
“Well… It appears this dead cat is more important than I thought,” Kate said. “I need to file a report on it, so I’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she said, smiling.
“What time did you discover the dead cat?” Kate asked, retrieving her unofficial notepad from her left breast pocket. It was a similar shape and size to her other pad but didn’t have the official page numbering. She knew her notes here would never make it to court, but she needed to write enough to fill out the official report at the end of her shift.
After thinking for a second or two, the woman spoke again. “About thirty minutes ago?”
Kate looked at her watch and made a note of the time. “And do you know or recognize the cat?”
“No, but there’s a collar on it.”
Kate lowered her notepad. “Let’s have a look again, then.”
When they reached the carcass, Kate resumed breathing through her mouth to avoid triggering nausea. The buzz-cut kid was still grinning as he played with the dead cat.
What’s wrong with this boy? Why is he poking at it? Is he just bored and curious?
“Would you mind if I borrowed your stick?” Kate asked him.
The boy raised his shoulders and handed it to her before stepping away from the carcass.
Flies had already infested the wound. The feline was definitely dead. Kate squatted next to it and used the stick to move the collar, so she could flip the silver medal that hung off of it. She snapped a photo with her cellphone, hoping that she’d be able to read a phone number or something without having to touch it. She did have gloves on her belt but touching and moving a dead animal in her current situation was not appealing. The smell of it was making her queasy.
“Did anyone see what happened to this cat?” Kate asked the group.
She was met with shaking heads and quizzical expressions, and before she could ask a follow up question, the woman who’d reported the animal chimed in again.
“I walk through here every evening. It wasn’t here last night at 9:30.”
“Does anyone live around here?”
Ms. Edwards replied again, “I’m just a couple of blocks away from here.”
“Did you hear anything suspicious? Gunshots? Animal fights?”
“We always hear cats in heat, but I think I heard a few dogs going crazy early this morning.”
Kate looked up from her notepad. “And what time was that?”
“I was dead asleep. It was loud enough that it woke me up. My alarm clock said it was 5:35, so I went right back to sleep.”
“Okay, thanks. Animal Control should be here shortly to remove the carcass. Please don’t touch it. It’s probably filled with germs and other nasty things you don’t want to get on your hands.”
Kate reflected on the 5:35 timing for a few seconds.
In this neighborhood? Too much time had gone by. It was late afternoon already. Stray dogs would have ripped this cat to pieces. This has to have occurred more recently than that…
A small pebble bounced near her boot. Then another, which hit the dead cat directly on the head.
The same boy who had been poking at the cat with the stick earlier had opted to throw small rocks at it instead.
Annoying as hell, but it wasn’t like he was committing a crime.
But just as Kate was closing her notepad, another pebble hit her boot.
“Hey, young man. Could you please stop throwing pebbles at the carcass?”
That’s just a preview of how I’ll be as a mother. Argh.
As she finished speaking, one last pebble landed near her boot before he dropped the rest of his rocks.
The boy raised his shoulders and exhaled loudly, obviously annoyed at Kate for taking away all of his fun activities, one by one.
But when she looked down, she realized his last projectile wasn’t gray like the others. It was a piece of shiny metal she was very familiar with.
She bent down and used the end of her long sleeve to grab the bullet. Probably a twenty-two caliber.
The head had been flattened by something more solid than the body of the cat near Kate’s feet.
“Hey, kid!” she yelled at the boy, who was already ambling away toward another area of the park. “Where did you find this?” She held up the bullet.
He shrugged once more then pointed to a small stone wall that supported the slightly elevated landscape behind it.
Kate couldn’t tell if there was any blood residue on it. If there were, it would be tainted by the boy’s fingers anyway. Fingerprints would also be gone or well smudged, but maybe the bullet itself could prove useful. She pulled out a tissue from the tiny pack she carried and wrapped the bullet in it before placing it in her pocket.
Is this the bullet that killed the cat, or could it be from another crime?
She examined the cat again, stick in hand. The size of the hole where the flies were collecting in the matted-out fur made it plausible that the cat had been shot. But it wasn’t like the department would ever approve funds to perform an autopsy on a cat to prove it.
Then again, the dispatcher had confirmed she had to file a report…
The possible weapon should be included in that report.
Shit.
Stupid Bower. Making me overthink a dead cat situation.
Kate walked over to where the boy had picked up the bullet. She traced an imaginary line from her foot to the cat, and then extended it to see where the shooter would have been positioned. For the bullet to hit the cat on the ground and then end up where she stood, it was obvious to Kate that the shooter hadn’t been very high up. He would have most likely been lying in the grass somewhere farther back. There were lots of thick bushes around there. Or perhaps it was a stupid person, doing it right in the open. Or possibly shooting from the first or second floor of a home at the edge of the park on that street… In the distance, several trees stood, each with relatively low branches. Assuming someone shot the cat with a long-range weapon, the person could have been in one of those trees. It was summer, after all. Ronan Park had numerous trees filled with large, green leaves that could provide decent enough coverage.
But someone would have reported hearing a gunshot, right? Or our triangulation system would have picked it up.
Why am I even bothering with this?
It’s just a stupid cat.
Unless the shooter hurt someone, and this bullet’s just a stray bullet that happened to hit a very unlucky cat and then stop against the concrete here…
Or maybe the wacko’s a serial killer working his way toward human kills.
He or she certainly wouldn’t be the first… Numerous examples of such a thing popped up in Kate’s mind as she pondered that possibility.
Could it be why the dispatcher had instructed her to stay and file an actual report?
Could she have imagined Andrews’ giggle?
She didn’t know anymore, but she certainly knew better than to disobey an order, so she opened her unofficial notepad and sketched out the important elements: location of the dead cat, where the bullet was found (approximately), and the overall shape of the park. She then named the surrounding streets, so she could orient her sketch if needed later on.
After she was satisfied with her rough map—she’d recorded every possible detail her report would contain—she closed her notepad, returned it to her breast pocket, and then headed back to her patrol car to open the trunk. Searching through the tiny evidence kit she kept, she found a small plastic bag then dug out the tissue she’d placed in her pocket, dropping the bullet into the bag and sealing it as per protocol.
She closed her trunk just as Animal Control finally arrived.
Kate took in a deep breath and headed their way, passing a little girl on a tricycle, her mother next to her, shouting encouragement
Will that be me? Is this what my life could turn into?
The girl smiled at Kate as she passed her, her baby teeth spaced out in the front of her mouth.
Dentist fees for another person. And clothing. A baby would be a lot more than an extra mouth to feed. I would have to buy diapers, and lots of clothes as the kid outgrows them.
She hadn’t bought any new outfits for herself in over a year.
How could they even afford to buy clothes and diapers for a kid? Hospital bills—
“Afternoon,” said a short, tanned, curly-haired man in dark overalls as he opened the tailgate of his truck.
Kate snapped back to reality. “Good afternoon. Cat’s all yours.”
“Is that why you’re here?” asked the man whose nametag read Jerry.
“A woman reported it using 9-1-1, and I was instructed to file a report about it. Crazy if you ask me,” Kate said.
“Yep! But we’ve certainly picked up a lot of dead animals lately.”
“And by a lot you mean…”
“I mean we’re used to roadkill and the likes, but these past few weeks… I’m the supervisor at Animal Control, and I’ve had to hire two more guys just for these. Heck, I’m here doing pick-ups ’cause two ain’t enough, but the city didn’t approve more than that.”
Kate let that sink in. She hadn’t realized the problem was that widespread. The news had mentioned some of it, but not the full story. The frequency definitely explained why the mayor was upset, though.
“Can I ask if they’re limited to one area of the city?” Kate asked as she followed Jerry to the orange tabby’s carcass. He carried over a shovel and a black plastic bag.
“They’re not in just one neighborhood. Before this one, I was up around Jamaica Pond to pick up dead ducks. Before that, I was at a golf club for dead pigeons.”
“Today?”
“Yep,” he said. “Since you’re here, would you mind holding the bag open for me?”
“Of course,” Kate said, doing her best not to inhale the nasty smell.
She brought the bag close to the fly-infested carcass, and, with a grating sound, Jerry swiftly picked up the cat from the gravel area where it lay and then dropped it in the bag, stirring up flies, some of which grazed Kate’s face.
As she flung one hand to push them away, she unintentionally wafted the odor toward her nose, which made her want to puke.
But she couldn’t. Not right now. Not in front of Jerry, the Animal Control guy. Not in front of the small crowd that hadn’t yet dissipated.
So, she did the only thing she could do. She swallowed her own puke back, but it didn’t go unnoticed. At least not by Jerry.
“Okay there, Officer?” he asked, mocking her.
She smiled as best she could. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the dead cat smell.”
“I don’t know anyone who is. Just be grateful it’s not a dead skunk like the one I picked up yesterday.”
A couple of hours later, after her shift officially ended, Kate made a brief stop by Gisele’s Salon. She parked nearby then walked in front of the salon’s large windows to scope out the scene. Kate spotted a young Asian woman with dozens of facial piercings behind the front desk. Around the receptionist worked not one but two busty bleached blondes: one was painting an elderly woman’s roots, and the other was clipping away the tips of a young brunette’s long strands.
One of them could be Bower’s blonde one-night stand, but hair color and breast size didn’t mean anything conclusive. Kate wasn’t going to waltz in there and ask them if they’d recently slept with one of her colleagues—that would have been way too inappropriate, especially when she couldn’t even think of a time when Bower would have had access to her notepad. So, Kate used the opportunity to walk into a nearby store and pick up Tic Tacs instead.
Purchase in hand, she headed back to the station where she once again ran into Julia and her Thermos.
“Officer Murphy, can I interest you in a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you, but I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s in it?”
“It’s just a healthy blend of peppermint, Yerba mate, and South African red bush tea.”
“Ah, thanks. Maybe tomorrow. Gotta run,” she said before walking into the locker room.
From the second she stepped in, Kate’s gut told her something was amiss.
First, it was Zhou that avoided eye contact when she gave him a head nod. Then, Johnston acted strange, too. He’d gradually increased his small talk toward her lately, but not today. He looked at the floor instead of greeting her. He closed his locker door and then walked right by her without looking at her.
The closer she got to her locker, the stronger her gut screamed something was wrong.
What’s going on here?
And what’s that smell?
“Hey, Murphy! Fun day today?” Bower asked with an overly happy tone as she got ahold of her lock and started entering her combination.
“What do you want?” Kate said, not at all amused as she concentrated on steadying her churning stomach.
Seriously, what’s that smell?
“Heard you worked on a real important case.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she opened the locker, releasing a potent dose of the bad aroma into the room, and making the half-dozen officers still present explode with laughter around her.
As Kate looked in, she recognized the matted orange fur resting at the bottom of her locker, flies buzzing around it.
“Fuck! Not cool, guys!” Before she could say anything else, her stomach reacted, so she ran to the large bin filled with used paper towels.
While she puked out her guts, a string of bad jokes and puns echoed around her. Most had to do with the dead cat, but some were aimed at her. She didn’t catch them all, but the words “as dead as your career” and “desk duty where you belong” reached her ears.
Once she ascertained she was done puking, she unfolded her body from over the garbage can and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Bower. I know this was you. Fuck, man… You broke into my locker and planted the same dead cat you made me waste my time on? Forget about infringing on my privacy. Putting a fucking carcass in here is a health code violation! You better get that thing out of my locker now, or I’m reporting you.”
“Come on, Murphy. Can’t you take a joke?”
“That’s no fucking joke. That’s harassment!”
“Fuck you, Murphy. If you want to be part of the team, you gotta play along. I’m done helping you.”
And with that, he left, taking along his buddies who continued to giggle under their breath. Zhou made fake puking noises at her as he walked by, pushing her toward her open locker.
And then the empty room fell silent, save for Kate’s quiet sobs, which she managed to get under control within a minute or so.
Fucking Bower!
Since she’d joined the district, in addition to the various small pranks she’d fallen for, Kate had also heard tales of other officers receiving their official welcome by Bower and his friends. This tiny detail told her that the asshole hadn’t played this particularly tasteless joke just because she was a woman, but…
And why do the rest of them always team up with him? They can’t all be disrespectful assholes. Are they all afraid that not following his lead will land them on the receiving end of his pranks?
For fuck’s sake, they’re cops!
They should know right from wrong, no matter if the most senior patrol cop’s the biggest bully on earth!
After wiping her tears, she called Animal Control and requested the carcass be picked up from the station. Then she found the janitor and begged for a garbage bag, so she could dump the carcass in there for now to reduce the nasty smell and confine the stupid flies.
Assessing which scenario would prove less damaging to her reputation and her likelihood of promotion, she decided against reporting Bower’s shitty actions. While his pranks had no reason to exist in the workplace, she knew better. The police force was still mostly a man’s game. Her supervisor was a guy’s guy. He liked Bower. She didn’t have real proof that he was the one who’d done it. She’d be creating a shitload of reports and paperwork.
And most importantly, Bower’s payback would be intolerable. The man had no shame. And he had lots of friends on the force. She wasn’t just fighting against him. He’d been working here for what, fifteen, twenty years? She’d have the entire district against her.
If getting the one shitty call for the cat today was an indication, her career in this district could get a lot worse, and fast.
Kate had to admit it. She didn’t fit in. But fuck them. Fuck them all!
Well, maybe not Johnston. Could he have been against the idea? Was this why he’d left the locker room before she became the laughing stock?
Can I just get one part of my life to work right now? One tiny fucking part? Is it too much to ask?
At least Bower and his stupid buddies will probably blame the carcass for my barfing.
She caressed her flat stomach and realized she wouldn’t be able to keep it hidden for long. Her petite but strong figure would start showing at some point.
But for now, her secret was still safe, thanks to a stinky dead cat.
Talk about a shitty silver lining.
Jerry was the one who came for the dead cat. Again.
At first, he was confused, but he soon understood the crappy prank that had been played on Kate.
“I don’t have time to deal with stupid jokes like these. I’ll find out what fucker released that carcass to one of your officers instead of disposing of it, and I’ll report it on my end. This,” he said, lifting the bag and pointing to it, “is just not cool.”
Feeling a little better from Jerry’s parting comments, Kate showered and changed into her civilian clothes, which still stank of the dead cat, even though she’d aired them out while she showered.
She was just about to leave the station when her phone beeped.
A new text message from Matt had come in.
Your uncle called.
Is everything alright?
Don’t know.
Call him.
Thanks.
Still at the station but heading home now.
Do you need me to pick anything up?
A minute passed without a response.
Screw it. I offered.
But then she hesitated. If Matt texted her while she was driving, and she missed it, he wouldn’t be happy.
She decided to call Kenny now instead of later.
“Hey, Katie! How are you, darling?” he said as soon as he heard her voice.
“Great, how are you? Matt told me you called the house.”
“Sure did. I just wanted to see if you’re still coming over to play cards with me tonight.”
“Of course. It’s Tuesday! Why wouldn’t I?”
“No, I figured you would, but”—he paused, swallowing hard enough for Kate to hear it—“I need your help again. Could you lend me a few dollars to cover my utility bill? It’s due tomorrow. I know I ask a lot of you these days…”
Kate shook her head as she absorbed his request.
Where am I going to find extra money now?
“How much do you need?” she asked.
“I know I’m a burden on you. But their rates went up again. I can cover some of it, but I’m shy two hundred to cover the rest of my bills.”
“Two hundred?!” Kate exclaimed.
He exhaled loudly on the phone. “I know. It’s a lot. My health insurance didn’t cover my pills this month. I had to pay for them upfront. Maybe they’ll pay me back. I don’t know.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she repeated. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll… I’ll find a way. See you in a few hours.”
“Yes, and I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to, Katie. You know how much you mean to me.”
“I know. I’ll see you tonight.” She hung up.
Two hundred dollars? Shit.
She looked at her phone again to see if Matt had replied.
Finished the soap in the shower.
No more TP either.
She texted back.
I’ll pick those up on my way home.
After stopping by Target, she crossed the road to her bank’s ATM.
She entered her PIN, and then requested her balance on the screen.
$153.28.
Shit.
And it wasn’t her latest $4 purchase that was to blame.
She retrieved $140 from her checking account since the machine only dispensed twenty-dollar bills.
Where the heck would she get the other $60 from?
Would Matt mind if she took it out of their joint savings account?
Better not do that.
They had agreed that their joint-account money would be used for a down payment on a house. That’s why each of them put $200 per paycheck in there. They were approaching their two-year anniversary. One hundred and four weeks, so that would be… $20,800.
Wow. Hard to believe. But nice.
They may soon have enough for a down payment if they kept it up.
Kate tried to think of another way to get money. Maybe she had enough pocket change in that jar on her nightstand?
Probably.
But she knew she hadn’t paid her Visa card yet, and her paycheck wouldn’t arrive for another two days…
Fuck it. I’ll deal with it then.
After a quick and mostly silent meal with Matt, Kate headed out the door with a bag of coins in her purse, dressed in leggings and a light sweatshirt.
Her uncle was at the door within a second of her ringing the bell. His thinning gray hair was neatly combed, and the ends of his thick mustache curled up when he greeted her.
“Katie! So glad to see you, come in!” he said, hugging her then clearing the way into the old home’s entry hall.
Pictures of him with his wife, Lucy, when she was still healthy covered the walls next to more pictures of her with a wig to cover her balding head after she’d begun her chemo treatments. A good portion of the portraits also featured Kate, after they’d adopted her.
She’d made happy memories here.
Funny how the years had gone by. The teenage girl she used to be had experienced horrible things, but Kenny and Lucy had made sure she’d grow up like a regular child. She had been loved and cherished. They’d done a great job. And thanks to them and her psychiatrist, she’d started to feel like a normal human and the feeling had stuck around. Well, most of the time, anyway.
“How have you been?” Kenny asked as they sat in the living room. “Here, put on a pair of slippers.”
Kate recognized the brown and orange Phentex slippers Lucy loved to make and sat down to slide them on over her socks. While the old slippers weren’t pretty, they were comfortable and reminded her of better times.
“Before I forget,” Kate said, digging into her purse and taking out her wallet, “I’m really tight financially but here’s what I could take out.” She pulled out seven twenty-dollar bills from her wallet and then handed them over before returning to her purse to dig out a bag of coins. “And I think I’ve got about fifty dollars’ worth here. Sorry, I couldn’t scrape the extra ten dollars. Do you think it will be enough?”
Kenny hugged her again. “Thank you, Katie. This shouldn’t be like this. I should be helping you, not the other way around. Your dad’s probably looking down on me now and swearing, invoking our old Irish ancestors and cursing me.”
“No, no! Stop that. You’ve taken such good care of me over the years. It’s the least I can do, but I’m really sorry I couldn’t find the other ten dollars. Matt’s…”
Kenny pulled away and stared into her eyes. “What’s going on with Matt?”
“We’ve been fighting over money a lot lately. I didn’t want to make things worse and ask him if I could borrow a ten from him.”
“What? That son of a bitch. He’s not treating you right. You know that, don’t ya?”
“He’s… We’re just going through a rough patch.”
“Rough patch? You haven’t looked happy in months. Are you sure it’s just a rough patch?”
Kate raised her shoulders, eager to change topics. “Where’s that deck of cards? I feel like kicking your ass.”
Kenny squinted at her, making it clear her attempt at a diversion hadn’t worked. But then he got up. “Can I get you something to drink? Decaf coffee?”
“Sure. That sounds nice.”
Kenny headed to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs, a little sugar container, a tiny cup of milk, a tin box, and two spoons on a tray, which he rested on the coffee table. “And hold on a minute.”
He looked into his old wooden buffet and came back with a bottle of Irish cream.
“You bought that?” Kate asked, taken aback.
“Don’t be silly. The only booze I buy is crappy whiskey, but Maude, that pesky neighbor, brought it over a few evenings ago, along with a batch of these Rice Krispies Treats,” he said, opening the tin box.
“Want some in your coffee?” he asked, holding up the bottle.
Kate shook her head. Although drinking would have been nice, she couldn’t do it anymore. Not until she figured out if she was going to keep the baby.
“That’s a first!” he said. “You’re turning down booze? How about whiskey? It’s probably the worst-tasting version you’ve ever come across, but it’s the only one in my price range. I’ve been saving it for special occasions.”
Kate shook her head again. “Plain coffee for me tonight, Kenny.”
“Alright.” He put away the bottles after pouring a bit of Irish cream into his mug.
“So, what are we playing?” he asked.
“Cribbage?”
“Sounds great.” He opened the coffee table drawer and retrieved a wooden board and a well-used deck of cards decorated with a Florida sunset that matched her worn-out slippers.
After taking a seat on the old, faded chair next to the couch, Kenny shuffled the cards; his elderly fingers were still impressively agile, considering his age.
“How’s your health? Everything good?” Kate asked.
“Of course. This old body’s still got at least a decade in it, me thinks.” He laughed as he motioned for her to cut the deck.
Kate did then reached for a Rice Krispies square. “These are good!” she exclaimed after biting into it.
“Unfortunately.”
Kate frowned at her uncle, perplexed.
“Nosy Maude is annoying as hell, but she’s a good cook. Can’t resist her treats, but can’t stand her.”
Kate laughed.
“And I can’t turn down free food,” Kenny continued.
Kate laughed again. “We’ll get our finances sorted out one day, I promise. When I make detective… That will help.”
“About that. How’s it going at work?”
Kate shook her head, mostly trying to forget about the day’s events. While today had been particularly bad, it hadn’t been the only time her colleagues had messed with her.
“I did well on the exam, but there’s too much competition. Not enough openings. I’m keeping my eyes open and doing my best at work, but I’m not a brown-noser. Sometimes I feel like there’s an invisible wall in front of me.”
“Your time will come. I’m sure of it,” he said, dealing the last cards, then asking Kate to cut again.
She did and Kenny flipped the card upwards: a four.
“Why did you and Lucy never have kids?” Kate asked out of the blue.
He paused, worry in his tired, brown eyes. “Now, that’s an odd question to ask.” Kenny discarded two cards and placed them face-down on the table.
Kate added her two discarded cards to the pile. “I was just wondering.”
“You start. We thought about it before your parents…”
“But what?” Kate prompted after a few seconds of silence, blocking the memories of her family’s murder as she played a card.
“You came into our lives and became our child, so there was no reason to consider having a child of our own.”
“No reason? Or no financial room?”
“A bit of both, I guess.” Kenny played a ten. “Twenty.”
“Thirty,” said Kate while adding a king.
Kenny shook his head. “Go.”
“One for last.” Kate moved her peg before returning her attention to her uncle.
He looked at her with crooked eyebrows. “Is something going on with you?” He played a king. “Ten.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked as she played a queen. “Twenty.”
Kenny eyed his cards before opting for a six. “Twenty-six. You’re hiding something from me. I know you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Kate said, looking down and feeling her cheeks warm up. She brought her eyes back to her cards and played a five then moved her peg by two. “Two for thirty-one.”
“Something’s going on, all right… Dear Lord!” he exclaimed after a short pause. “No booze, baby question. Are you and Matt expecting?”
Kate froze.
“Is it that obvious?”
Kenny looked puzzled then smiled. “Oh, dear! Congratulations!” He leaned toward Kate then wrapped his arms around her.
She closed her eyes for a second before replying, her words muffled by his shoulder. “I’m not sure I’m happy about it.”
“What do you mean?” Kenny let go of her and returned to his seat, his eyes locked onto Kate’s.
“I was on the pill. I don’t even understand how it’s possible. I love my work, but I’ll have to find something else to do. We can’t afford to have a baby.”
“Katie, you can’t let finances be a deciding factor. We’ll figure something out. You and Matt will figure something out. And I swear I’ll find a way to help the two of you. Hell, maybe I’ll get a job as one of those greeters at Walmart or something. Yeah… I could do that!”
“Don’t be silly. You’re not at an age where you should be spending hours standing up and walking around… But the thing is that I can’t stop thinking about Baby Bobby.” Tears started running down Kate’s face.
A second later, Kenny was once again hugging her, his hands gently tapping her back. “There, there. Little Bobby’s in a good place. Sure, his life was cut short, very short. But he had a happy existence. You can’t let that affect your own life. You’d make a great mother, I know it.”
Kate let her uncle’s embrace comfort her for a minute or so before she pulled out of his arms.
“Thanks, Kenny.”
He returned to his chair.
While doubts bounced in her head about his last statement, Kate looked at the cards on the table and noticed Kenny still had one to play. “Your turn, right?”
Kenny played his last card. “Four.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Kenny moved his peg. “One for last. What’s changed?”
“Matt and I. I’m not sure we’re ready for a child.”
“You haven’t told him yet?”
“No. We’ve been fighting over everything and giving each other the silent treatment lately. I feel like I don’t know him anymore. He’s changed. Or maybe I’ve changed.”
“It’s normal. Lucy and I had our share of fights, believe you me!”
“Really? I never saw you two fight.”
“Glad to hear. I’m sure Lucy’s relieved to hear that as well,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, kissing his fingers, and then crossing himself.
“I just don’t know anymore. I might terminate the pregnancy.”
“Oh no!” Kenny was now shaking his head so fast his hair couldn’t keep up. “Anything but that.”
“But—”
“Seriously. I know you don’t agree with my religious views. I’ve never pushed them on you out of respect for your father. I knew him well enough to know he wanted you to choose your own faith. But I wonder if I’ve somehow failed you by not providing you with enough moral guidance.”
“No, no. My moral compass is perfectly fine. You and Lucy have done a great job teaching me the difference between right and wrong. But maybe some people are not meant to be parents, you know?”
“Then maybe adoption is the answer. Not abortion.” He paused for a while, his eyes never leaving hers. “Katie, please do me a favor. All I ask is that you think it through. Don’t make a rash decision. Don’t do anything you could regret for the rest of your life.”
Kate exhaled loudly.
“And talk to Matt,” Kenny continued. “He may be an ass—possibly the world’s biggest—but he has the right to know. It’s not just your baby.”