Justice liked being gently petted on his star, but being bonked on the head was out of the question. Never! Too polite to snarl at his boss, however, he cast Andie a look of dismay. This is intolerable.
“Justice dragged me in here. He’s really glad to be back,” Andie told the Chief.
“Good, good. You had us worried, boy.” When Malone reached out to dribble another round, Justice backed away and plopped down next to Andie, in a folding chair safely on the other side of the desk.
The Chief’s messy office might have passed for another burrow in the rabbit-warren station. The tilted blinds subdued the light so you felt like you were a few feet underground. Overflowing the wastebasket were papers, which an industrious rabbit might have ripped up for a bed. An asparagus fern that could pass for a giant carrot top was shedding needle-y fronds on the linoleum floor.
“What about you, Brady? Holding up okay?” Malone asked.
“I’m fine!” She tried to make her facial expression match her words. “I miss everybody, but other than that, everything’s good.”
The Chief got up, crossed the room, and opened his metal file cabinet’s top drawer. “I’ve got something of interest to you.”
He pulled out what might have been a report, bound like a book with a plastic cover, and he handed it to Andie on the way back to his swivel chair, which squeaked under his weight. “Here’s what Wolski came up with. His boss, the County Prosecutor, and I signed off on it. That’s your copy. Take it home. Read it if you want.”
In Andie’s hands it felt as heavy as a barbell. She felt like she was holding her future, and she was scared to find out what it was. “Thanks,” she said, barely audible. So close to a reckoning, it was hard to be tough.
“You’ll be glad to know we all agree you acted within state and federal law and our department policy. It’s a tragedy that Christopher Vanderwaal died, but you were right to shoot and protect yourself. It’s a justifiable homicide.”
The barbell in Andie’s hands became a feather. For the first time in over a month, the stiffness in her shoulders eased, and she breathed a deep, relaxed breath. She felt more than relief; she felt like the Chief had issued her a ticket to a country called Freedom, and vindication was delicious. Sid King, his prejudiced colleagues, and the Islanders for Collaborative Policing could put “ justifiable homicide” in their pipe and smoke it.
“Thank you, sir.” Using facial muscles that had lain dormant for weeks, Andie smiled. A real smile.
She reached for Justice, who would now be her dog forever. No prison sentence would separate them! He got to his feet and looked at her, his head cocked as if he were checking that the palpable rush of emotion from her was positive and she didn’t need assistance. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. He licked her ear.
“I’m glad I could deliver good news,” the Chief said. “Wolski did a bang-up job. His investigation was as steady and measured as he is. No one could have asked for more.”
“I’ll thank him.” Next time Andie ran into him, she’d apologize too. She was sorry she’d gotten mad and called him biased. He’d only been doing his job.
“We need to talk about some things,” the Chief continued. “This business isn’t over. The press isn’t going away anytime soon.”
“Shouldn’t Sid King back off once he hears I’m off the hook?”
“He won’t. The Vanderwaals have hired a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” Andie should not have been surprised—these things happened when police used force, but, still, she reeled back in her chair. Malone had just stamped “void” on her ticket to Freedom. “Why?”
“The Vanderwaals think you and Christopher were . . . involved,” Malone said.
“I didn’t know him! How many times do I have to say it?” Andie lashed out, though the Vanderwaals, not the Chief, were her target.
Malone raised his hands, palms toward her to indicate, Peace. “I believe you didn’t know him, Brady, but they don’t. They claim their son would never hurt a fly, and the lawyer’s pressuring us to find out what was going on. You can understand that they’d want an explanation.”
“They should understand I want this nightmare to end. I did nothing to start it,” Andie said, louder than was acceptable in a professional discussion. “And I don’t have an explanation. It’s not like I haven’t spent a gazillion hours trying to figure one out.”
“I know. Nothing about this is easy.” Andie’s outburst must have caused the new foam in the corners of Malone’s mouth. “I talked with Alan Pederson and Wolski this morning. We’ve worked out an arrangement so Wolski can earn overtime and keep investigating the case. He’s glad about it. He wants to know what was going on with Christopher as much as you do.”
That’s hardly consoling. Who knows what Wolski might try to pin on me next?
“Wolski’s bothered that he hasn’t come across the kid’s laptop and phone. He thinks that’s where he’ll find a motive,” Malone said. “Just sit tight. Let this play out. I believe you didn’t have anything to do with it. Wolski’s inclined to agree.”
“ ‘Inclined’ doesn’t indicate a strong opinion,” Andie said.
“He’s on your side. I am too. We’re just trying to avoid a lawsuit.”
Andie shook her head, unnerved. A lawsuit meant she’d be under attack all over again. Discovery, depositions, and court appearances could drag on for years, and she could end up with a terrifying judgment against her.
But for now a lawsuit was too much to consider. She told herself, Forget it! Don’t borrow trouble. Pretend it doesn’t exist! With the same steel that fortified her wall, Andie shoved the possibility of a lawsuit out of her mind and shrugged back into her role as a tough, confident cop.
“You can come back to work as long as Capoletti agrees you’re okay,” Malone said. “Make another appointment with him.”
“Yes, sir.” No fun there. “If he clears me, could Justice ride with me right away? I know he can’t run yet, but he’s doing much better.”
“That’s fine.”
The Chief got up and came toward Justice, who could read his mind as well as Andie’s. Justice knew perfectly well he was about to get bonked on the head again.
Pat, pat, pat. Bounce, bounce, bounce.
1. Justice is getting stronger and more limber. He’ll be able to ride with me as soon as we go back to work. (And I will go back to work!)
2. Tom Wolski is “inclined” to believe there was nothing going on between me and Christopher. Maybe he’ll stop confronting me.
3. I’m not going to prison! I won’t be fired! Everybody agrees that I was right to shoot! It’s justifiable homicide!
Andie put down her pen and stared at “justifiable,” a verdict she’d longed for with such fervor, yet actually seeing the word was almost a shock. Her actions were deemed reasonable, defensible, legitimate. Everyone had agreed.
But then another word caught her eye: “right.” Being justified to shoot and being right to shoot were vastly different. Her action may have been reasonable, but maybe it wasn’t moral.
Though she’d expected exoneration to absolve her of wrong, again she asked herself, Did I do the right thing? The question sank its teeth into her and wouldn’t let go.
CHAPTER 26
TOM
“Here, Sammy! Come on, girl!” Tom’s whistle pierced the crisp December afternoon.
Her ears flopping, her feathery tail waving, his golden retriever galloped across the dog park toward him. As he’d worked for months to teach her, she sat in front of his toes.
Biscuit! Biscuit! I came when you called. Oh, please! begged her beautiful eyes.
No biscuit was forthcoming because Sammy had been looking pudgy lately and today Tom and Lisa were encouraging her to exercise. From across the park, Lisa called Sammy in a small, high-pitched voice and waved her red mittens. Sammy ran to her, then turned around and ran back when Tom shouted her name.
As she was halfway to him, a German she
pherd darted across the meadow, ambushed Sammy, and leapt around her. He was hobbling slightly, but that didn’t seem to dampen his excitement. Come on! Let’s play! said his yips and bows.
“He wants to make friends. Do you mind?” A woman’s voice behind Tom sounded familiar.
Puzzled, he turned around. He should have recognized the voice and the dog. Andrea Brady hurried toward him, her red hair flying. She was bundled up in a pink down coat, and her cheeks were pink from chasing Justice. Man, she was pretty.
“I’m sorry, Wolski. You don’t have on your uniform, and I didn’t recognize you from behind,” she said.
I hardly recognize you head-on. She’d obviously gotten the good news from Chief Malone. What a difference it had made to wipe the resentment off her face. “I should have known it was Justice. I can’t believe he’s so much better. He’s running almost like a normal dog, and it’s not even been six weeks.”
Two parallel vertical lines appeared between Andie’s eyebrows. “It feels like a century.”
Sorry about that. It took me a while to do my job. “Have you met Lisa?” In her red parka and ski hat, she was running around Justice and Sammy as they fake-growled at each other. Tom called Lisa over and told Andie, “She’s my daughter. She’s a little shy sometimes.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Andie said.
“Best thing that ever happened to me. She lives with me on weekends.”
“Oh.”
Brady got the look that had crossed some women’s faces when they’d added two plus two for the four of Tom’s marital status. Usually, their eyes would sneak a glance at the fourth finger of his left hand, but Brady’s eyes stayed on his face. She wasn’t interested, not that it mattered.
Lisa arrived out of breath, her hat’s pompom bouncing. “Dad, that dog likes Sammy.”
“His name is Justice,” Tom said. “This is his person. Andrea Brady. She’s a San Julian cop.”
“You don’t look like a cop,” Lisa said.
“I’m not wearing my uniform.” Andie smiled.
Amazing. A first. And her smile didn’t kill her.
“What’s the weather going to be tomorrow, Lisa?” Tom asked.
“I already told you this morning,” Lisa said.
“Tell Officer Brady. Show her what a good weather forecaster you’re going to be.”
Lisa sighed like her father was the king of dorks. She cleared her throat. “Okay, a storm is coming from the south-southwest. Temperature will be a low of thirty-eight, high of forty-three. Rain by midnight. The barometric pressure is falling. You can tell from all those birds over there.” She pointed to crows roosting on a power line. “They’re not flying around because the falling pressure hurts their ears.”
“I didn’t know that,” Andie said.
“She surprises me all the time with what she knows,” Tom said. “What kind of clouds, Lisa?”
“Da-ad, you said you’d learn the names.”
“I’ve been busy lately.” Brady could vouch for that.
“They’re cumulonimbus.” Lisa pronounced each syllable carefully, like she was talking around pebbles in her mouth. “They mean bad weather’s coming.”
“I’m impressed. Where’d you learn all this?” Andie asked.
“Some at school. I look online a lot.”
“I have something you might like.” Andie unzipped her black shoulder bag and rummaged around the way women did when Tom asked to see their driver’s license. From the bottom of her purse, she pulled out a ring that looked like a plastic wedding band.
“Have you ever seen a mood ring? Here, take it. It’s yours,” Andie said.
Lisa shook off her mittens and tried the ring on her scrawny fingers, then slid it onto her thumb.
“The ring’s a barometer of your feelings. When it changes color, it predicts your emotional weather,” Andie said. “If it’s black, you’re stormy and scared. If it’s pink, your sun is out, and you’re happy.”
Lisa beamed at Andie as if the sun rose compliments of her each morning. Good for Brady. Very kind, Tom thought. He watched the ring slowly lighten to the blue-green of the Pacific on his and Mia’s Hawaiian honeymoon, which he didn’t particularly like to remember.
“Great color. Blue-green means you’re in a good mood. You’re pleased, upbeat,” Andie told Lisa. “Watch out if it turns yellow because that means you’re anxious. Or orange—you’re angry or nervous. If you Google ‘mood ring chart,’ you can find out how to read every color.”
“I’m going to hear her mood now along with her daily cloud report,” Tom said. “What do you say, Lisa?”
“You don’t have to tell me, Dad. I was getting ready to thank her.”
“Sorry, kid.”
Lisa hugged Andie, a shock to Tom. He’d never seen his shy daughter do anything like that to someone she’d just met.
“Thank you.” Waving her hand—and her mood ring—she danced off toward Sammy and Justice, who were taking a sniffing break along the gravel path around the park. They were surely friends by now. If they were people, Justice would be asking Sammy for her phone number.
“Lisa’s thrilled,” Tom said. “I’ve never seen her warm up so fast to anyone before.”
“I’m honored.”
“Where’d you get the ring?”
Before Andie could respond, a woman with a long face stormed up to them. She was carrying a fox terrier whose woven leather collar sagged on her scraggly neck. “Is that your German shepherd?” she asked.
“Yes,” Andie said.
“Off leash like that?!”
“This is a dog park. That’s why there’s a chain-link fence. The leash law doesn’t apply here,” Andie said.
“You shouldn’t let a vicious dog like that run free around that child. What are you thinking?” The woman shook an ink-stained finger at Andie. “Your dog could tear that girl to pieces, and he’d kill my Trixie with one bite. Thanks to you, I have to leave the park.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Tom said. “That dog happens to be a K-9 in the San Julian Police Department. He’s perfectly trained.”
“I don’t trust him. I’ve seen those dogs snarling in Nazi movies. They’re unpredictable. I can’t stand the sight of them.” The woman hustled Trixie off to the dog park’s gate.
Tom looked down at Andie. He’d seen that flush on her cheeks when her annoyance had been aimed at him. “I wonder what color her mood ring would turn.”
“Neon orange. She’s furious.”
“It’s her loss.” As Tom glanced across the grass to check on Lisa, he pulled his muffler tight with his hands as if he were about to buff the back of his neck, like a shoe. “It must be hard to have a dog some people are so prejudiced against. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
When Andie didn’t respond, Tom looked down at her again. Her face looked like she’d walked into her house and an unexpected crowd had shouted, Happy birthday! He asked, “Why the surprise?”
“No reason,” Andie said.
“Because I have a heart?”
His honesty seemed to ruffle her. “Well, if you really want to know . . . I didn’t realize you could be sympathetic. Toward me anyway.”
“Because I was cruel and heartless during the investigation?” Tom’s smile crinkled his face.
“You’re harassing me.” Andie’s second smile for the afternoon told him she didn’t mind.
“I know you thought I was after you, but I wasn’t. I went into that case stone cold. I had to do my job,” Tom said.
“You did a good one,” Andie admitted. “I read every word of your report. I’m grateful you were careful and fair. Thank you. I’m sorry I got mad and called you biased.”
“I’ve been called worse,” Tom said.
Andie looked sincere. Her eyes were like deep green lakes when not a whisper of wind skims the surface. Tom never thought she’d have it in her to apologize. He’d misjudged plenty of people in his life, but he’d bet his next pay
check that Andrea Brady was honest. He felt sure she hadn’t known Christopher Vanderwaal.
“Since it’s legal for us to talk about the case now, do you have any idea why that kid came after you and Justice?” Tom asked.
“Not a clue. I swear. If I knew, I’d tell you.”
“I’m still looking for a motive.”
“So the Chief said.” Andie pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m happy to help you any way I can. We’ve got to figure it out.”
She said “we.” We! Brady, welcome aboard.
CHAPTER 27
ANDREA
On the ferry to Seattle, Justice stuck his head out of Andie’s Honda window and, in ecstasy, sniffed the fishy smells. He pricked his ears at squawks of gulls circling the boat and watched suspicious passengers who might be sneaking in dope from Canada. Because he was so fond of the ferry, he looked downcast when the ride came to an end. Andie drove to a similarly downcast redbrick building on Capitol Hill and persuaded him to step onto an old squeaky elevator, which took them to Dr. Capoletti’s second-floor office.
Located in a corner of the building, it was light and airy, and the many windows offered views of a small park. The high ceiling’s molding looked like spiders had web-spinning contests on it, and batting was coming out of Dr. Capoletti’s olive-green club chair. The covers of his sofa pillows needed ironing as badly as his shirt.
“So you found me all right,” he said.
“Yes,” Andie said politely. This visit was coerced!
She felt better about being forced to see Dr. Capoletti, however, when he got on his knees to meet Justice. He gave Justice a dog biscuit, just as Dr. Vargas always did, and patted him with more respect than Chief Malone had. Justice welcomed the attention with a friendly nuzzle to Dr. Capoletti’s armpit. An Olympic champion of character assessment, Justice seemed to recognize the doctor’s honest effort to be kind.
Justice accompanied Andie to the sofa and stretched out at her feet in his sphinx position so she could reach down for him, if needed. Today Andie had no intention of needing anything. She planned to get out of here as soon as possible; a quick all clear from Dr. Capoletti and she’d be back at work. Though she knew in her heart that she was still psychologically wounded, she would hide it. Whatever it took, she’d keep her feelings to herself.
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