Before she’d left for work, Matt had crawled out of bed to kiss her goodbye. His abnormally warm behavior left her puzzled during her morning commute to the precinct.
But her focus shifted when she spotted a Post-It Note on her locker. It read: “Murphy, Sergeant’s office ASAP.”
Fuck. Again? What now?
The second she was dressed in her uniform, she headed to meet him. As though he’d been waiting for her, he’d left his office door opened.
Kate knocked on the doorframe. “Sergeant? You wanted to see me?”
“Murphy, yes. Come in. Take a seat,” he said, standing and pointing to the chair in front of his desk before closing his door and returning to his seat.
The air was heavy with something Kate couldn’t identify, and a deep wrinkle bisected Sergeant Bailey’s dark eyebrows.
He finally broke the silence and waved a piece of paper over his desk, in the air between them.
“I just heard. Is it true?”
“I’m not sure. What are you talking about, Sergeant?” asked Kate.
“Some Jerry Swanson guy emailed me this morning.”
Kate frowned, trying to remember who that was.
“Let me give you another hint. He works with Animal Control.”
Oh no. That Jerry. Shit. Kate couldn’t look at the sergeant.
“Based on your reaction, I take it it’s true. Was it Bower?”
Kate swallowed hard, her eyes still on the concrete floor.
How do I act now?
“Murphy, look at me.”
Kate did, even though she could feel her eyes tearing up, which was the last thing she wanted her supervisor to see. Through her moist eyes, she saw the sergeant’s traits soften and the corner of his lips rise.
Wait, is he siding with me on this?
“Why didn’t you report it to me?” he asked.
Kate brought a finger to her nose, scratching it, although it didn’t itch. But it was something to distract her, to help her contain her tears.
“Why?” she repeated before inhaling deeply.
“Murphy…”
Her distraction tactic hadn’t worked. Stupid pregnancy hormones. Are they making me more emotional than usual? She wiped a tear from her eye before it flowed down her cheek. “Contrary to what it looks like right now, I’m not a crybaby, Sergeant.”
“I’ve never called you one. I may have asked about—”
“I’m a team player. I know I make mistakes sometimes. But I love being a police officer. There’s nothing I want more in the world than to become a detective. I know the job comes with its fair share of bullsh—” Kate interrupted herself. “Sorry, Sergeant. I don’t mean—”
“Murphy. I don’t care whether you’re a woman or a man. I realize the guys probably make your life a little hard at times. Boys will be boys and all. But that…” He waved the printed email in the air again. “It’s too much. You should have reported it to me the minute it happened. This shouldn’t be the way I hear about it.”
A blast of hope blew past Kate’s heart, causing tears to spill from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant. I… I just didn’t want to make things worse for myself.”
“You know who did it?” the sergeant asked.
“I have an idea, but no proof. So, I won’t say.”
“I’m not blind. I know who you suspect. I’ll deal with him. But I want one thing to be crystal clear. This type of behavior, this…” He tapped his finger on the printed email again. “This is not acceptable. I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. And this goes for all my officers. I’m not treating you any differently. It may not have been your fault, but it’s your responsibility to report it to me if it happens again. This kind of shit won’t fly here.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“I’m heading out for coffee.” He stood up and reached behind him to grab a box of tissues, which he offered to Kate. “Pull yourself together, and then close my office door after you leave.”
After a couple of minutes of deep inhaling and exhaling, Kate managed to dry her eyes and prep herself for the day.
Backlash was coming for certain.
Bower would never be the kind to receive criticism from the sergeant without trashing Kate in return. And the district included too many of Bower’s friends and allies.
But at least she knew she hadn’t been the one to report him. He couldn’t accuse her of that, and that was a small comfort. So, with her newly talked-into confidence, she got up from her chair, left the sergeant’s office, and closed the door on her way out.
“Operations to Harry-145,” the dispatcher said on the radio.
Kate replied right away. “Harry-145.”
“80 Neponset Avenue, disturbance.”
“Harry-145 acknowledged.”
She ran lights and sirens to the address provided for the call. As she arrived, she saw a sign that said Exotic Pet Frenzy.
“Harry-145. Adam Robert,” Kate said on the radio to announce her arrival at the scene.
The dispatcher acknowledged her statement, and Kate exited her vehicle.
She noticed a Help Wanted sign as she opened the door. A bell rang just above it as she entered, but it barely registered above the sound of the feuding men behind the counter at the back of the store.
A mother stood with her hands over her young daughter’s ears. The daughter’s eyes were round, and the mother was shaking her head.
Kate jabbed a thumb toward the door, instructing the mother and child to go wait outside.
They obeyed, leaving their basket in the aisle.
Why is it that some people don’t just walk away? Wouldn’t it have been easier to leave the premises instead of just covering your child’s ears?
Then Kate reflected on her judgment of that woman.
Who knew? Kate herself could end up being the worst mom ever. She shouldn’t judge any mother.
But she tossed that negative thought aside for now and continued to the back of the store, keeping an eye out for other civilians. But from what she could tell, she and the two arguing men in matching green aprons were the only ones left.
As she approached the counter, she paid close attention to the two Caucasian males behind it. The man on the left, closest to the cash register, was around five feet seven, his hair gray, with a thick, matching mustache decorating his upper lip. Probably in his early fifties. The one on the right was six-feet tall, blond, scrawny, and most likely in his early- or mid-twenties. Something about him seemed familiar. Kate wondered if she’d seen him in the grocery store or issued him a speeding ticket recently.
“Okay, okay! Stop it now!” Kate yelled as she reached the counter, her authoritative voice booming as loud as theirs. The older man shut up and turned to face her while the young one continued hollering.
Kate slapped her hand on the counter next to the young man. “Sir, please stop yelling.”
As though snapping out of a trance, the man stopped and slowly turned to look at Kate.
“I’m Officer Murphy. Someone reported a disturbance. That’s why I’m—”
The young man resumed yelling at the older man, who returned the shouting. The only words Kate made out were “thief,” “overtime,” “fired,” and “missing inventory.”
Kate slammed her hand on the counter again. “Enough!”
The two men shut up. This time for real.
Kate lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Listen, and don’t you dare start yelling again. This is how it’s going to work. Either you behave and listen to me, or I’m taking you both in right now.”
The older man nodded while the young man remained silent and motionless, which Kate took as a sign of comprehension.
She retrieved her official notepad. Turning to the obedient, older man, she asked, “Sir, what’s your name?”
“Thomas Tumlinson,” he said.
“And do you work here?”
“I own this pet shop. So, yes, I work here.”
“Can I see some ID, please?”
The man pulled his wallet out of his pants, then retrieved his driver’s license and handed it to Kate who copied down his information.
“Thank you,” Kate said.
She turned to the other man. “And you, sir? What’s your name?”
“Frank Scott,” he said, his voice flat.
“ID?”
The man provided it.
As she returned the driver’s license to the young man, she knew her next question could trigger another yelling spree based on what she’d already overheard between them, so she prefaced it with, “Now, don’t start arguing over this next bit. You’ll both get a chance to answer questions. One at a time, all right?”
She once again glared at both men, who now both nodded in agreement.
“Mr. Scott, do you work here?” Kate asked.
“Yes, I—”
“Officer,” the owner interrupted.
Kate turned to the owner. “As I said, I’ll give you a chance to speak in a second. Let me hear his story. Then I’ll ask you the same questions.”
The owner’s cheeks reddened, but he nodded.
“Mr. Scott. How long have you worked here and what’s your position?”
“About two years. I do everything around here—”
Tumlinson coughed. Kate glared at him before addressing Scott. “Give me some examples of tasks you routinely do.”
“I clean the cages and fish tanks, I take the dogs out for walks, I bathe them, I feed all the animals. I show them to clients—”
“So, animal care and maintenance of their living environments. Correct?”
Mr. Scott nodded.
“Mr. Tumlinson. Is it correct to say that Mr. Scott has been working here for two years, taking care of animals and maintenance?”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply before answering. “It was correct. I fired him last week, but he keeps coming back.”
“Can you give me the exact date you fired him?”
“Last Monday, whatever date that was.”
“Why did you fire him?”
The man’s hands flew in the air as he rolled his eyes. “So many reasons!”
“Give me one,” Kate prompted.
“We kept losing inventory.”
“Like what?”
“Animals.”
Kate frowned at the owner. “Animals went missing?”
“No. Yes.” The man tilted his head then continued. “A few went missing: a snake, a rabbit, a couple of tarantulas, and a guinea pig.”
Kate looked around the store, unsure how significant those numbers were. From where she stood, she could see at least thirty tanks meant for reptiles and other non-aquatic animals. There was an entire wall with dozens of aquariums. She couldn’t see where they kept the “normal” pets like cats and dogs.
“Could the animals have escaped somehow?”
“Well, when I opened the store the following morning, the tops of their tanks weren’t properly on. So yes, they could have escaped. But it was his responsibility to ensure their habitats remained closed and secure after he fed—”
“But I—” Scott said.
“Quiet, please. You’ll get your turn,” Kate told Scott before returning her attention to the owner.
“I understand. Anything else?”
“A few animals died,” the owner said.
This nugget piqued Kate’s interest, so she stayed silent, hoping the owner would continue.
“But those things happen sometimes. You know, I try to avoid puppy mills, and I do my best to find reliable breeders, but some of them are just in it for the money. The animals they produce are sick from the very beginning. And some of that is probably my fault. I bought a few dogs and birds from a new breeder even though my gut was telling me not to. I didn’t even go and visit the site. He brought the animals here. I was in a pinch, and I had customers ready to buy a few of them.”
With animal deaths spreading like wildfire around town, Kate had to ask, “But are you sure that’s why they died?”
“Yes. Pretty damn sure. I took a couple to a veterinarian friend. A dog and a parrot.”
“And what did the vet say?”
“With the business not doing so great lately, I didn’t ask for the full-blown tests, but I asked for his professional opinion. Once he heard where I’d gotten the animals from, he wasn’t surprised.”
“And what’s that breeder’s name?” Kate asked, although it didn’t have anything to do with this particular call. Maybe she could relay that information to someone else who could go and investigate further.
“Hold on. I think I still have their business card.”
As Kate waited for the owner to find it, she returned her attention to the ex-employee.
“So, Mr. Scott. Do you acknowledge that Mr. Tumlinson fired you last Monday?”
“Yes, but—”
“Now, why do you keep coming back to the store if you no longer work here?”
“He still hasn’t found anyone to care for the animals. Did you see the sign outside? I know nobody’s taken over my position. Nobody can take care of the animals like I do.”
“But Mr. Tumlinson fired you. You have no right to take care of his animals now. You’re no longer getting paid.”
“I know!” he yelled. “I’m not doing it for the money. I don’t want to get paid. I need these animals! They help me.”
Now, this is heading somewhere unexpected.
The owner handed Kate the business card, taking her out of her flow for a second.
“Thanks. So, let me get this straight,” Kate glanced between the owner and the ex-employee. “You both agree that Mr. Scott here got fired last Monday.” The men nodded. “And although you’ve been fired,” Kate said, now addressing Scott, “you’ve kept coming in to work, but without any expectation to get paid?”
Mr. Scott nodded. “Correct.”
Kate turned to Tumlinson. “Is this an accurate description of the facts?”
“Yes. Every day I tell him to go home. To find another job, but he won’t. I… I don’t know what to do anymore. I won’t pay him. I just want him to leave me and my store alone.”
“Okay,” Kate said, exhaling as she closed her notepad. “Mr. Tumlinson, if you file a criminal trespass notice against Mr. Scott here, then he legally won’t be able to come near your business anymore. And if he does, you can call us, and we’ll arrest him.” Kate turned to the ex-employee. “Mr. Scott, I’ll have to ask you to come with me. Do you have any belongings here?”
The ex-employee shook his head.
“Okay. Any store keys?”
Scott twitched, as though surprised by her question, but Tumlinson was the one to reply. “He gave them back to me last week.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Tumlinson.”
Kate returned her attention to Scott. Since he looked familiar, even though his name didn’t ring a bell, she picked up her shoulder radio. Perhaps she’d seen his mug weeks ago during a morning brief. She’d never forgive herself if she let a wanted felon go free.
“Harry-145, requesting a check on Scott, Frank. D.O.B. 1984-04-25.”
She kept an eye on Scott while waiting for the dispatcher to report back. His traits were relaxed, no fear in his eyes. Probably nothing to hide.
“Operations to Harry-145. I have a Scott, Frank,” the dispatcher started. “Driver’s license shows address at 194 Hamilton Street. Six-feet one, blue eyes.”
“Correct,” Kate said. “Any warrant or police involvement?”
“That’s a negative, Harry-145.”
“Harry-145 acknowledged,” Kate said in her shoulder radio before tucking her notepad back in her breast pocket. “Looks like we’re all done here then. You have a great day, Mr. Tumlinson.”
Turning her attention to Mr. Scott, she continued, “Please come around the counter, and I’ll escort you out.”
He obeyed, and they both walked away from Tumlinson. As Kate pushed open the door, she noticed the shoelace of his work boot dangling as he stepped out.
“You may want to take care of that,” she said, nodding toward his black boot. “And, if I may, I recommend you volunteer at an animal shelter if you need to spend time with animals and are willing to do it for free.”
“Ah… What a great idea,” Scott said, a wide grin decorating his face.
After filing the reports for today’s incidents, Kate headed home, but not before stopping by a mall on her way. Two weeks to go before her wedding anniversary, so she had to get Matt something.
About five minutes after stepping into the large department store, she found a gift she knew Matt would love, but she hesitated before pulling her emergency credit card out of her wallet.
“How will you be paying for those beautiful cufflinks?” asked the brunette with doe eyes who stood behind the counter.
“Visa,” Kate replied, handing her the card and trying to ignore the interests she knew would pile up since she wouldn’t be able to pay it off for a few months. “The sign says you offer free gift-wrapping services?”
The woman nodded. “Would you like it gift wrapped?”
“Yes, please,” Kate said, swallowing hard. It was as though a giant’s hand was squishing her chest, turning her heart to goo. Stupid societal rules.
The cashier handed back the credit card, which Kate returned to her wallet.
Why am I struggling with the idea of buying an anniversary present for my husband this year?
Half of her just wanted to do free things for him: serve him breakfast in bed, make a montage of pictures from happier times, or cook him something special to celebrate. But the other half knew Matt’s stubborn stand on birthdays and holidays.
To Kate, being ignored and having birthdays go unnoticed year after year while in foster care seemed like valid reasons to want more attention instead of money, but it seemed Matt had grown up to believe the opposite was true. To him, the price tag was more important than the thought.
Who was she to judge her husband for the coping mechanisms he’d developed after his tough childhood? If many lonely Christmases and birthdays had made him crave expensive presents instead of the care and attention that she herself had come to value more than anything, then so be it.
What kind of wife—and future mother of his child—would she be for not spoiling him on their wedding anniversary?
But Kate suddenly pinpointed the real source of her mental struggle.
That Sam woman. Why can’t I shake the idea that she’s more than a business prospect?
“Here you go, ma’am,” the cashier said, handing Kate a beautiful ash-colored bag filled with yellow crêpe paper.
When Kate stepped out of the store a few seconds later, her mind was made up.
She had to prove her gut wrong. No way she’d give a cheating husband a fancy anniversary gift she couldn’t afford.
Heck, returning it would just be the tip of the iceberg. All hell would break lose if Sam turned out to be his mistress.
Kate’s life would be turned upside down. Her decision to keep the baby or not...
She had to find out the truth about Sam, and fast.