Authors: L.N. Cronk
“Maybe you did it,” she said.
“I would never have bleached this,” I said. “I wouldn’t have even washed it.”
“What is it?” she asked, so I told her the story.
“I’m really sorry,” she said again when I’d finished.
I nodded.
“But I’m telling you,” she went on, “that I didn’t do it.”
I nodded again, and then stood up to go take care of the laundry.
The next evening, Emily was unusually quiet during dinner.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She nodded, but I could tell something was upsetting her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked after another few minutes of quiet.
“I got a phone call today,” she said.
“From a parent?”
She shook her head. “No.”
I waited.
“It was from a detective.”
“A detective?”
She nodded.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear what she said.”
“It was a woman?”
She nodded again.
“What did she say?”
Emily hesitated. Finally she asked, “Did you know that you’re still being investigated?”
“What?”
“She said that you’re still being investigated.”
“For what?”
She hesitated even longer this time. I could tell that she didn’t want to tell me.
“She said it was computer stuff . . . she said that you were downloading stuff . . .”
“Downloading stuff?” I said. “What kind of stuff?”
When she obviously really didn’t want to answer that, I knew.
“I haven’t been downloading anything,” I said. “What would I be downloading it onto?” I pulled out my dilapidated phone with the cracked screen and held it in front of her. “This?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, shaking her head and looking very uncomfortable.
“Why was she calling you?” I asked.
“She just . . . she was asking me questions. Asking me if I’d noticed anything.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her ‘No.’”
“Let me see the number,” I said, holding out my hand for her phone.
“She called me at school.”
I narrowed my eyes for a moment, thinking, and then I looked at my phone and pulled up my contacts. Within a minute I was talking to Dale—one of the guys I worked with after I made detective.
“Hey, Reid,” he said, sounding pleased but surprised to hear from me. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Dale,” I said. “Listen. Have you heard anything about me being under investigation?”
“For what?”
“I have no idea . . . that’s why I’m calling you.”
“I haven’t heard anything,” he said. “Why? What’s going on?”
I relayed to him what Emily had told me.
“That doesn’t sound right,” he said when I’d finished. “Sounds like a scam or a reporter or something.”
I looked at Emily and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s kind of what I figured, but I just thought I’d check with you and see if you’d heard anything.”
“No. I haven’t heard anything. I’ll keep my ears open, but as far as I know, nothing’s going on.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
After we hung up I smiled at Emily again and shook my head.
“Nobody’s investigating me,” I told her. “Somebody’s just trying to rile you up or get a quote out of you or something.”
“Why would they do that?”
“You’ve got to remember,” I told her. “Everything that happened was a
huge
news story. There are always going to be people who—first of all—don’t believe that I’m innocent, or—second of all—want to cause trouble because they don’t have anything better to do.”
She looked relieved and gave me a little smile.
“Nobody’s investigating me,” I repeated. “And if they do investigate me, they’re going to be bored out of their minds.”
She smiled again.
“Unless, of course,” I said, “they investigate how sexy my wife is . . .”
I leaned forward to kiss her.
“Actually,” I went on. “
I
would like to investigate exactly how sexy my wife is.”
She let me kiss her, but then she put her hand on my chest and said, “I’d love to, but I have a ton of papers to grade.”
“You’re always grading stuff for them,” I complained. “They’re
first
graders! How could they possibly have that much stuff that needs to be graded?”
“I have to write comments on everything they do!”
“Why? They probably can’t even read what you write!”
“Their
parents
can . . .”
I sighed.
“So no investigation into how sexy you are?” I asked unhappily.
“Not right now,” she said apologetically. “But maybe after I get done with their homework . . .”
But based on the way things had been going since she’d started teaching, I was pretty sure that by the time she finished I wasn’t going to get anything from her but a sleepy kiss good-night.
DURING MY MORNING break the next day, I checked my phone and saw that I had a missed call. I looked at the number, recognized it as Dale’s, and I’ll admit that my heart kind of stopped for a minute.
He asked around like he said he would and he found out that it’s true . . . I
am
being investigated.
I called him back.
“Hey, Dale,” I said, trying not to let my voice betray my concern.
“Oh, hey, Reid.”
“Did you call me?” Maybe it was just a butt dial.
“Yeah,” he said. “Hey listen. I got to thinking after we talked last night and I wondered if you’d heard about Dancy?”
Abraham Dancy was an officer I’d worked with ever since I’d joined the force. We had never been particularly close or anything, but he was a K-9 officer and Noah was always fascinated with his dog, Gracie. Whenever Noah was around, Dancy always made sure to stop by so that Noah could see her.
“No,” I said. “What happened?”
“Pancreatic cancer. He was losing weight for some reason, went to the doctor, got diagnosed. Three weeks later he was dead.”
“Oh, man,” I said. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It was pretty bad but, uh, I was wondering about something.”
“What?”
“Any chance you’re interested in a dog?”
When a K-9 officer dies, the department will often try to reassign his dog to another officer, but sometimes that isn’t possible. At nine years of age, Gracie was showing signs of arthritis in her left shoulder. That—combined with the fact that she was depressed over losing Dancy—made retirement the only sensible option.
I surprised myself by how quickly I told Dale that I would take her . . .
Noah had really liked Gracie.
“You did
what
?” Emily exclaimed that evening when I told her.
“She needs a good home,” I said.
“So we’re getting an old dog with arthritis?”
“She’s not
that
old,” I said. “And her arthritis isn’t even that bad. It’s just that she’s not in top shape to be a service dog anymore, and we’ve got a great fenced-in backyard and—”
“Reid,” she interrupted. “We can barely afford to feed ourselves. How are we going to pay for dog food and vet bills and everything else?”
“You’re going to get your first paycheck Monday,” I reminded her. “Things are going to be better then.”
“There’s going to be dog fur all over the place.”
“I’ll clean it up,” I promised. I was already doing all the cleaning anyway.
“Whatever,” she said, shaking her head.
“Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad,” she said, “but you should have talked about it with me before you decided to get a dog.”
“I should have,” I agreed. “You’re right. Do you want me to call Dale and tell him to forget it?”
She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Go ahead.”
She looked at me unhappily and I took a step forward to put a hand on her arm.
“It’ll be nice next summer for you to have her around for protection,” I said, rubbing her arm. “I don’t like the thought of you being here all alone.”
“I guess,” she said, shaking her head and pulling away slightly.
“Emily,” I said. “If you don’t want to get the dog, I’ll call Dale and tell him to forget it.”
“No,” she said. “I told you I don’t care, I just . . .”
She shook her head.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just have a headache. I’m going to go and lie down for a little while.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll get dinner started.”
She nodded at me and headed into the bedroom.
I went into the bedroom when dinner was ready. The blinds were closed and the room was dim.
“Emily?”
“What?” Her voice was clear. She certainly didn’t sound like she’d been sleeping.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“I’m not hungry.”
I walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.
“Emily.” I put my hand on hers. “I’m sorry I told Dale we’d take the dog. I’m going to call him and tell him we don’t want her.”
“I
told
you, this isn’t about the dog.”
“Well what is it about?”
“I just don’t feel good,” she insisted. “I have a headache.”
“Have you taken anything?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you take some ibuprofen or something?”
She gave me a small shrug.
“If I get you some, will you take it?” I asked.
“I guess.”
I went to the medicine cabinet over the sink in the bathroom and got two ibuprofen. I filled up a cup with water and took it back into the bedroom, standing before her.
“Here,” I said.
She sat up, took the pills, and popped them into her mouth. Then she took the cup of water from me and washed them down.
“Thank you,” she said, handing me the empty cup and lying back down.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you don’t want any dinner?” I asked.
“No.”
“Okay,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
She nodded.
I leaned down and gave her a kiss before I left.
She didn’t kiss me back.
THE NEXT DAY was Saturday, and Emily didn’t make any move to get out of bed when I did. I ate breakfast without her, did some laundry, and finally went back into the bedroom.
“Emily?”
“What?”
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know.”
I stood at the doorway for a minute and then said, “I was wondering if you’d thought any more about Gracie?”
“I told you, I don’t care.”
I stood there for another moment before I went to get my dog.
“Hey, ol’ girl,” I said when Gracie trotted up to me. She smelled my hand enthusiastically; I like to think she remembered me. I scratched her behind the ears while Dale filled me in on everything I needed to know.
“Landry’s been watching her ever since Dancy got sick,” he told me as he finished up. “He said she’s been doing pretty good, but his wife’s getting tired of having her in the house.” I nodded and then—obviously without thinking—Dale rolled his eyes and added, “You know how wives can be.”
Emily was putting a bowl in the sink in the kitchen when I got home, and Gracie trotted right up to her as soon as I let her in the house, wagging her tail. When Emily didn’t make a move to pet her, Gracie sat down and tipped her head quizzically.
“Pet her,” I suggested.
“She won’t bite?”
“No.”
Emily reached out her hand tentatively and petted Gracie on the top of her head. When Gracie leaned into that, Emily scratched her ear. After Emily stopped petting her, Gracie put out a front leg and tapped her paw on the ground, clearly asking for more. Emily smiled.
“She seems sweet,” Emily admitted.
“She is,” I said. “I promise you’ll like her.”
We went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Gracie followed us, but after we didn’t do anything too exciting, she started wandering around the house, exploring.
“Hale and Anneka were going to bring Molly over this afternoon if that’s okay,” I said, looking at Emily carefully. “They told her about Gracie . . .”
“Okay.”
“I told them I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up to it.” I reminded her, “You weren’t feeling too good last night.”
“I feel better today,” she said quietly.
“I’m glad,” I said, still looking at her. She looked back at me briefly but then turned her eyes away to search for Gracie, who was investigating the sliding glass door that led onto the deck.
“Maybe she needs to go to the bathroom,” Emily said.
“She should be okay,” I said. “She went right before I brought her in.”
“Oh.” She nodded.
“Hey, Gracie,” I said. “Come here.”
Gracie obediently hurried into the living room.
“How you doing, ol’ girl?” I asked. She wagged her tail and sat down, tipping her head at me just like she’d done to Emily earlier. I rubbed the top of her head and then asked, “Are you going to be a good watchdog?”
“She doesn’t seem very vicious,” Emily noted.
“They’re only vicious when they need to be.”
“How does she know when she needs to be?”
“She’ll get to know us,” I said. “She’ll bond with us. We’ll be the ones feeding her and loving her, and she’ll know that she needs to protect us. If someone tries to hurt us, she’ll do everything she can to stop them.”
I quit petting Gracie and she tipped her head at me again. I tipped mine right back at her and when that didn’t get her anywhere, she got up and walked around the coffee table to try Emily. Emily let out a small laugh and reached out to pet her.
“So do you think you like her?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Do you think you like me?”
She didn’t take her eyes off Gracie, but after a moment, she nodded again.
I slid closer to her.
“I like you,” I said. When she still didn’t look at me, I reached up and stroked her cheek. “Emily?”
She finally turned her eyes to me.
“I love you,” I said.
She paused for a moment before answering, “I love you, too.”
“And I want you to be happy,” I said. “Are you happy?”
She gave me another nod. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”