I hear Graham’s dog mewl in the background.
I’ve been to a few homes, yes.
37
My brakes screech to a halt and all I see are emergency vehicles.
Two black and whites aimed at Graham’s house like their grills were going to zero in and open fire; driver side doors left wide open. An ambulance waiting off to the side, the crew poised at the rear of their truck, waiting for the all-clear.
“Whoa, mister, this is—” one of the medics says as I step out of my car and approach the house.
“Crime scene. I know. I called it in. This is my old partner’s house. I’m former Saint Ansgar PD. What’s the status? There should be a man and woman in there. What—”
“Okay. Okay. Just wait until the police clear it and we can go—”
I draw my .44 and the crew all stare like I pulled out my junk and flopped it on a nun’s desk. I look at the lone female, say, “Honey, you’re gawking at this like it’s the first time you’ve laid eyes on nine inches.”
“Your wife is kind if she told you that’s what nine inches looks like.”
I turn to the house and start walking. “I’m told this is nine inches, you’re told you’re pretty. Same difference.”
No response to that. “Have the cops brought out anyone? Anyone at all?”
“Mister, if we had a patient we’d be working on them.”
I look back to the house. The crime scene is cold. Ursa is long gone. The cops inside must be clearing
it and wasting valuable seconds. I wave the gun. “We’re going in.”
They follow.
“Police! Coming in with EMS!” I shout through the front door. Graham is on the living room carpet. Face down. Cell phone still in his hand. Blood caked to the side of his head. Jumped. Motherfucker. Clocked over the noggin and now—
“Show me your hands!” A uniform comes around the corner, sees me among the EMS. They move away from me and tend to Graham. EMS are crazy. The things they ignore to do what they do.
I hold my hands up, ID in one and the gun in the other.
The EMS chick looks to the uniform, says, “Jenkins, right? This dude claims to be PD. Came in with us.”
One of the EMS guys says over his shoulder, “Said he was the RP.”
The uniform comes over, takes my ID. Retired PD credentials. Examines them, takes a deep breath and holsters. Gives me the ID.
“You found the woman?”
The uniform raises an eyebrow. “You need to get out to the driveway and wait. We’ve got this.”
Oh, if this kid worked for me back in the day. “I asked you a question, rookie. Where is this man’s wife?”
“I don’t know, now get the fuck outta our crime scene and wait like any other RP at the end of the drive.”
EMS stabilizes Graham’s neck and rolls him onto his back, onto a spine board. His phone slips out of his hand. The female picks it up and I snap, flex open and close my hand. She slaps it in my palm with enough attitude to turn me on if this were any other crime scene. Graham groans and tries to move. EMS holds him down. His eyes flutter, his lips curl like he’s going to vomit. Or cry Molly’s name.
I lean in. “Graham, it’s Richard. I. Will. Find. Molly. Alive. I swear it to you.”
He clears his throat. “You...have to.”
“I will.”