She nodded and stood. “Come with me, I’ll show you what I think.”
We walked with her, passing Mocha and the Doberman as we went.
I smiled at Mocha. There weren’t many dogs that could keep up with her in the quickness department, but the Doberman could. Easily.
“There’s a hole in the fence over here that’s been patched up, but it’s got a different color tie on it each time I come out here. It makes me think that it’s being used, and then replaced each time. Except they’re not using the same color ties, nor are they putting it in the same holes.” The woman pointed to a hole in the fence.
Luke and I walked up to it, stooping down on the balls of our feet to check out what she thought of as a ‘hole.’
And sure enough, there was one. A large one. Big enough not just for a dog, but a human as well.
“Call O’Keefe. Let’s get him out here to look at this, see what he thinks,” Luke ordered.
I nodded and pulled out my phone once again, smiling when I read the text from Memphis.
Memphis- I didn’t think it was a dick. At least not one that belonged to you anyhow. ;)
I snorted and exited out of the text from her and pulled up O’Keefe’s name and called him, explaining what we’d found.
“Alright, I’ll be out there in ten,” O’Keefe said.
O’Keefe was the detective that was put on this particular case.
After I’d taken down the dog that was going to attack Memphis, little pieces had started to be put together, and a dumping ground of dogs had been found not far off from our apartment complex.
What we thought was going on, was that they were dumping them in a creek off the highway. Except the water ran to nothing more than a trickle about a tenth of a mile down the creek.
That’d been where the dog that had nearly attacked Memphis was traced to after some officers had started to case the area.
What we thought happened was that the dog was dumped like the others that’d been found, except he hadn’t been dead, and had gotten out of the creek and up to the street where instinct had then taken over, carrying him in the direction of his home.
Except he’d encountered Memphis on the way, and had lost his life anyway.
Another text from Memphis popped up on my phone, and I would’ve read it, but a faraway form started to walk down the tree line. A person.
On the wrong side of the fence to be coming from anywhere else but the woods beyond the dog park.
The trail ran along the opposite side, so there was no way that he’d be coming from there, either.
“Two o’clock,” I rumbled quietly.
Luke didn’t bother to look up, only turning his eyes to look at what I was seeing.
He grunted. “Take Mocha.”
I nodded and started walking towards the gate, whistling to Mocha as I went.
She broke off from her new friend and came running at me, tongue lolling out, eyes alert.
I’d used our ‘time to work’ whistle for her.
She was a good girl when she had to work.
Now, if I’d tried to do that because we were leaving she would’ve ignored me.
She stepped up to my side, keeping pace with me as we walked out of the gate around the chain link fence.
The guy must’ve turned around, because when we reached the end of the fenced in dog area, he was gone.
I found grass that was folded over from his trek through, so we followed it until it ended in a wooded area.
After a quick search around, I walked back to the hole in the fence, this time to the opposite side.
O’Keefe was there, examining the hole with a trained eye.
“It’s being used a bit. The metal here is worn like it’s been pushed back and forth a lot. There’s stress marks in the links here,” he said, pointing at the links.
I’d seen that as well, but O’Keefe was the detective, so I let him detect. If he didn’t notice anything that I had, then I’d mention it, but until then I’d let him come up with his own conclusions.
The chief had charged us beat cops with asking questions to the public, asking if they’d seen or heard of anything.
He wanted answers, as did we.
Yet, as Luke and I were leaving an hour later, we were still just as unsure of what was going on now as we were when we arrived.
My phone vibrated again, this time with an email.
However, it reminded me of the text I’d gotten from Memphis earlier but had never read.
I about choked on my tongue as I read it.
I was also glad I wasn’t driving this time.
Memphis: I masturbated in your pants today. It was like you were there.
My heart thudded inside my chest at the idea of her masturbating, period. The idea that she was in my pants when she did it was just bonus points.
Downy: Where’d you get my pants from?
I could practically hear her laugh over the time and distance that was separating us.
Memphis: Trade secret. You’ll never know.
I snorted. I remembered exactly when she got them. It was when she took them off the floor of my room after I’d taken them off to get ready for work.
Regardless of where she got them, I was glad she was wearing something of mine.
However, the next morning, when I woke up to find a man on a bike staring me down with death in his eyes, I wasn’t so happy she’d brought the pants after all.Chapter 9If you were one of the three little pigs, and I was the big bad wolf, instead of blowing your house down, I’d blow you kisses. And wink at you and shit.
-T-shirt
Memphis
“Alright, momma. I’m going to head home if you’re sure,” I said, giving my mom a warm hug.
My mother was smaller than me, but she had a little more padding up top than I had.
We really looked nothing alike, except for our eyes.