Bingo!
Shit, Fin would have known all of this, she lives and breathes dogs. I looked at the pictures of the man and his dog. So this little shit is the one chasing my walker-girl? I felt my blood boiling, and I had to push the seething anger back behind the professional wall I have built in my time with the NYPD.
The snowplow driver opened his door and hung out, yelling, “Come on! Get that shit out of the way, I'm workin' here!”
I spun, pointing a finger at him as I barked out, “Get the fuck back in your truck!” Ok, so maybe not as under control and professional as I'd like. But this was the language we spoke here. He harrumphed and got back in his truck to wait. Ok, that was sort of fun, don't judge, I have cuffs.
The tow truck driver looked amused and then said, “I'm billing the city for this.”
I waved him off while I read more information on my phone as I radioed for a patrol car to go visit the kennel.
A nearby vendor who was folding up his table and the umbrellas he was using to keep the snow off his merchandise called over to me. “You guys catch the asshole? It almost looked like he was aiming for the funny lady with the dogs.”
I spun to him as the tow truck driver got into his vehicle and started dragging the van out of the snowbank. “You saw which way they went?”
He shrugged, pointed uptown. “Can't see shit in this storm. She ran through the snowball fight instead of going around it.”
I smirked. Familiar ground. That was my girl's MO. She was heading toward her home turf, and she hadn't had a chance to find a phone because this little Gilbert man was chasing her, and it's a holiday, most of the city is shut down.
Then he added as he shut the last umbrella, shaking the snow and ice off of it, “Yeah his arm looked pretty fucked up. Blood all over his coat.”
That caught my attention. Blood? “Was the girl hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not that I could see. She was fast though for a little thing in this snow.”
I relaxed a little, relief profoundly flooding me. It sounded like one of the dogs got a piece of the man. My money was on Calvin if Gilbert laid a hand on Fin. He's about the most loyal dog I have ever seen, and he was really protective about his 'pack.' It wouldn't be the first time he got a piece of someone going after our girl.
I'd never been much of a dog girl my whole life. Was partial to cats since they didn't require as much maintenance as dogs, but Calvin? He's changed my mind on the subject. God help me if I didn't love him like our child. I smirked over the fact that the brash Dog Walker has gotten into my head.
I had just gotten into the SUV and pulled out when my cell started ringing. I looked at the screen and rolled my eyes. Of course, they were getting involved. “McLeary, speak to me Raife.”
Finnegan's very ex-boyfriend, Rafiel Moretti... pretty-boy and arrogant pain in my ass. As annoying as I found the man, I restrained myself from pushing him off a high pier for Finnegan's cousin, Pollyanna, who was enamored with the man. She pretty much had the reins on their odd relationship, and that was pure gold for me to see the controlling man out of control of the situation.
It may be my jealousy speaking, but Fin did choose me after all, and he has actually come through in big ways since I met Finnegan. So... annoying? Yes. Survivable? Barely. I admit I do have a grudging respect for the man.
He said in his smooth tenor, “What have you got Fin into now, McMuffin? I swear since she met you she's in peril on a regular basis.”
For how flippant he was, he did sound concerned just like me. “Stow it Raife, have you heard from Fin?” I already knew the answer, it wasn't like he was calling to catch up. But I had warned Fin not to use the network of dog walkers like some vigilante force again. Sure it had helped with a couple cases in a big way before, but we have police for a reason. I don't know how many infractions the department has ignored whenever they called one of those Broken Leashes on a suspect or on Finnegan herself.
A Broken Leash is actually a pretty amazing thing dreamed up by Finnegan and Raife back when they were dating before he made the boneheaded move of cheating on her. I mean, who the hell would cheat on a woman like Fin?
Imagine my shock when I learned that there were over ten thousand dog walkers in New York City, and if a dog gets loose from one, it is usually a death knell for their career. But now they can call a Broken Leash, and all the dog walkers in the city go on the lookout for the missing dog. They work together like a huge dragnet in the city to return the dog before the owners know it is missing. They do this because they know that the next Broken Leash could be theirs.
But with Finnegan's newfound proclivity for attracting trouble, they've been helping her with other things, and that has emboldened them. They feel... useful like they are making a difference in those cases. I know the dangers of that feeling, it is why I'm a cop. I just don't need them taking chances and getting hurt. That's what the NYPD is there for.
I added before he could respond, “This better not be another Broken Leash.”
He answered carefully, “Why? Should it be?”
Ok, the man wasn't stupid.
When I didn't respond, he said, “I don't like being your messenger, McNuggets. Linus was out walking Nacho when he said Fin came running past him on 6th and 51st with Calvin and a Dane. She yelled back at him to get ahold of me to tell you she's heading to the precinct. And asked him to run interference on the guy chasing her.”
That's Radio City Music Hall. She's bringing the guy to the precinct? Good girl. Why doesn't she find a safe place and call? Wait, it's Christmas, virtually everything is closed, and the blizzard is making things worse. I looked at the time, she wouldn't be making very good time in this weather. Judging by the time Greg said he saw Fin, and how long it took me to get there, and the time at the abandoned van, I'd say she still had about a half mile to go. But would she take the straightest path with someone chasing her? “Ok, thanks Raife.”
I heard his rebuke as I was hanging up on him, “Wait, McBitc...” I snorted.
Ok, whatever, I like the man at times.
My SUV slid around the corner, and I forced myself to slow down. The streets were just about empty, even the die-hard New Yorker's were moving the Christmas festivities inside. I could see all the Christmas lights flickering in the windows of the apartments above street level, families celebrating like Fin and I should be. I exhaled long and slow to keep a rein on my emotions. It still amazes me how much that little thief of hearts has wormed her way into my being.
I got to Radio City Music Hall and got out. The street here had been plowed in the last half hour as there was little snow in the street and big berms at the sidewalk. I slid out of the car and sent a text to Jessie, in case she's heard from Fin. She texted immediately that she had last seen her at home earlier.
I stood on the corner and put myself into Fin's head. This wouldn't be the path she'd normally take, she likes to stay close to the core so she can use the paths in the park to dump her out close to her destination. So why here?
I spun to the building. She's smart. She had been looking for a public place that would be open so she could contact me. The Christmas Spectacular with the Radio City Rockettes plays every Christmas. The marquee shows the last showing was two to five PM. She had just missed the venue being open.
What now? She missed it, so would she sweep back toward the park or head to the precinct more directly? Or look for another open venue? My radio squawked and dispatch broadcast my badge number, I pressed the button, “McLeary.”
They informed me of a disturbance at St. Patricks Cathedral twenty minutes ago. When a squad car arrived, they said a woman matching the one in my APB was seen there with two dogs. They had just called it in.
The church! It would be open twenty-four seven. I ran back to my car and headed down the road, it was just two blocks away.
I looked at my phone when it started ringing. Fin? No, it was Jess. Shit. I shouldn't have contacted he
r. Now she'd be worried too. She and Kerry had some things to work out, she didn't need this distraction. So I let it go to voicemail. A moment later my cell buzzed again, I smirked at the text, “Come on Five-O, you can't just text and ditch. Is Fin ok?”
The shit eating grin was wiped off my face when another call came in. Fuck me with a capital F. I couldn't ignore this one. I accepted and asked as calmly and dispassionately as I could muster as I squinted, “Winnie, what a pleasant surprise.” I was so going to kill that red-headed tattle tale!
If you think my wife to be was a handful, Winfred Oleander May was a force of nature unto herself. I could see why Fin was so strong-willed, her mother being a role model I wish we all had growing up. You didn't want to be on the other side of the accusing tone I received, “Jane Marie McLeary, why are you asking poor Jessie where Fin is, then not answering her call?”
Why did I feel like a misbehaving kid standing in front of the principal? She went on, “You haven't gotten her mixed up in anything dangerous again have you?”
Me? Getting her mixed up in anything dangerous? Again? It isn't me that is a magnet for trouble. “Winnie.”
“Don't Winnie me, young lady. Well, I suppose Fin is more to blame.”
I nodded though she couldn't see me. “Thank you.”
“Just tell me, is my danger prone girl safe? She's supposed to be with you at home right now.”
I hedged. “Well, best I can tell she is ok. I'm going to pick her up now. But from all accounts, any danger is minimal.”
She harrumphed, “Fine, tell me half-truths woman. Just don't keep us all in the dark this time.”
I sighed in relief, I was getting off easy, and it wasn't even my fault. I promised, “I will.”
Then she said with genuine concern and warmth, “And Jane, sweetie. Be careful. Now bring our girl home and lock her in a bubblewrap filled box or something.”
“Yes, ma'am.” She cleared her throat, and I corrected myself, “Yes... mom.” She insisted I call her that after Fin and I got engaged, Rebecca said there was no way out of it, she had tried. It struck me at that moment that after I married Fin, Bec was going to be my sister-in-law. Each of us married to one of the twins.
“Love you, lady.”
I smiled and responded, “Love you too. Bye.” I meant it to. I loved Fin's family, wishing my own had been half as supportive.
I hung up and pocketed the phone. It was mind-boggling to go from the sorry excuse for a family I had to a genuinely loving family like Fin's. And somehow, I find myself inexplicably part of that family, and I... don't feel deserving of it.
I started to get out of the car at the Cathedral, leaving my lights flashing since the parking along the curb was nonexistent with the huge snow berms that trucks and loaders were working on removing down the block. It was amazing the infrastructure of the city was a living breathing machine, and even on holidays, there were virtual armies of workers keeping it running smoothly in the background.
My radio hissed to life, startling me. Dispatch shared that there was a disturbance at the MOMA. Again, a woman matching my APB trying to get into the building. The Museum of Modern Art? She was grasping at straws now. It wouldn't be open today. No, wait, she wanted it called in, hadn't she? She was leaving me a breadcrumb trail to follow. Good Fin. God, I loved her. She was showing me that she was circling back toward the park. She'd be passing right by our place. She'd be in the park by now. I was gaining on her.
I didn't follow her trail, as I knew where she'd come out of the park at the path by the Balto statue onto 5th and 67th to make a beeline for the 19th Precinct. So I headed to 5th to meet her there. As I moved along, the foot traffic seemed to be getting more and more frequent, and most of the people seemed to have dogs. They were all dog walkers, and they were converging on the park too.
God damn it Raife! He 'had' called a Broken Leash after all.
There didn't seem to be a lot of them this time compared to the other times I've seen this, but I'm sure most of them take the holidays off too since most of the dog owners would be home today. Fin would have been one of them out there to help out too if I hadn't convinced her to take national holidays of so we could have time together. Not tjat ever happened since I always found myself working on them. Crime didn't take vacations.
As I sat there, checking in with dispatch and going over my case notes I almost chuckled, knowing that Fin had basically put a bow on this case for us. It amazes me how insightful she is by accident, and has helped out in cases more times than I can count. She doesn't even know she is doing it most of the time.
I was starting to feel edgy when I realized she should have come out of the park by then, and I couldn't see more than twenty feet into the storm in the streetlights. All my instincts were screaming at me, and I've learned over the years to listen to them. I looked around to see what had my sub-conscious was trying to tell me.
Now, my attention to detail may not be as heightened as Fin's, but I have years on the job that has honed mine. Nothing was immediately obvious, so I sat and just watched the world, what little of it I could as the windshield wipers swished away the new snow that instantly melted into water droplets which looked like little stars as they refracted the artificial lights of the streetlamps.
The only motion out there for the past few minutes had just been a few dog walkers. I've had to readjust the way I have looked at the world since I met Fin. She enlists the help and appreciates all the people who are virtually invisible background noise for most of us in the city.
The dog walkers, the sanitation workers, the doormen, of the Big Apple. They are all an integral part of the city that we just take for granted and so we don't pay much attention to them as they move around us. I pay attention now. I watched a young woman with a couple dogs on leashes as she passed by on the sidewalk and then headed into the park, moving slowly on the barely navigable path. The snow was getting deeper.
Then I understood what my instincts were telling me. They were all heading into the Park. If they were all gravitating toward sightings of Finnegan, then she never came out of Central Park.
I quickly checked my sidearm and my radio, then took a second to fish the big Mag-Light flashlight out from under the driver's seat. I slid out of the car and let the awesome jacket Fin got me drape down to my knees and started jogging into the park, letting the lamps along the path guide me.
I saw the woman ahead of me turn north instead of south. I furrowed my brow and hustled through the drifting snow to catch up, calling out, “Excuse me, miss? NYPD.”
The young lady paused and turned back toward me, she looked apprehensive as I approached, unclipping my badge to hold it up for her to see as I closed the distance. She looked nervously between me and the direction of the boathouse, then brushed her platinum white hair out of her face, showing her Hispanic features. “I'm not doing anything wrong.”
It sounded almost like a question, and I had to chuckle to myself since it sounded like something Fin would say.
I clipped my badge to my belt and prompted, “Detective McLeary, NYPD. I'm looking for Finnegan May, do you know where I can find her?”
She straightened a little defensively, and her tone lost its nervousness, “Why are you looking for Fin?” She used her nickname, this girl knew Finnegan. A lot of the walkers in the core did. And she looked ready to protect her.
I held a hand up to calm the woman as I flicked my flashlight up the path north. “I have reason to believe she is in danger, and...”
Her eyes widened, and a huge smile bloomed on her face as she blurted out, “Oh! You're her detective! What was her name?”
I repeated, “McLeary.” Just as she blurted out excitedly, “Detective McJerkFace!” Then she quickly apologized, realizing what she had said, “Oh, I'm so sorry, she says it with love. She's really smitten if that helps.”
I know I should be upset at the name, but it just warmed my core, from day one, Fin has stood up to me
and called me on all my bullshit. That was the first thing that made me really take notice of her. She says I'm her Jerk Cop, and she actually labeled me to that effect with her label maker. Now it is sort of a term of endearment.
I smiled at her and assured her, “It's fine...” I left it an open prompt.
She supplied hesitantly, “Izzy.”
Oh, Fin mentioned her before. She was the girl who was always losing that skittish Chihuahua. She works for Raife. Figures, he has the junior walkers out on the holidays, but I guess that isn't any different than any other business. Pay your dues sort of thing until you get seniority.
Raife owned Rafiel's Canine Walkers, a conglomeration of dog walkers that he ran like a commodity service, instead of the personalized service that Fin offered. It was like the difference between a fast food burger and filet mignon to the discerning dog owners of the city. There is a reason Fin is in such high demand.
I continued, “Izzy. I take it that a Broken Leash had been broadcast?”
She looked at me nervously and said in a flat tone, almost like it had been rehearsed, “The New York Police Department has warned against the formation of any group to interfere with city business. The contractors of Rafiel's Canine Walkers do not participate in...”
I snorted, cutting her off. Leave it to Raife to make them deny everything to keep the liability off of his company. And that he even bothered, made it clear to me that the dog walkers of the city had no intention of complying with the wishes of the NYPD. Fin made them feel as though they were doing something important, and they liked it.
I really couldn't blame them, even though it put them in harm's way. Self worth is a huge motivator.
“Don't worry, Izzy, nobody is going to get in trouble. I just need to know, is it Finnegan?”
She looked at me then to the north again, looking apprehensive. Then she nodded once, digging her cell out and showing me a live stream update of texts on the BL Feed shared by the thousands of participants. “Some bulldog looking balding man is chasing her. She was seen on Cherry Hill less than ten minutes ago.”
Case of the Great Danish Page 10
