Chapter One

While thirty-nine was by no means old, on days like today, Detective Tisha Wiles wished that she was in her early twenties again. She had gotten just three hours of sleep after a twelve hour shift, and her body was not shy in showing its displeasure. She stopped by the 7-11 to pick up a large cup of coffee, and then the Safeway next door to get some more plastic gloves and baggies. Her boyfriend Jay had raided her stash for one of his class’ science projects, and there was a good chance that David had forgotten to restock his own supply. Between these two stops, she was running later to the scene of the crime than she would like, which only worsened her mood.

At least the crime scene had a parking lot. Finding street parking in Towson was a pain in the ass.

She gulped down the last of her now tepid coffee before getting out the car and pulling her police kit out of the back. Time to put on your game face, Tisha.

She gave the uniforms her trademark tight-lipped smile as she flashed her badge and they let her through the tape.

Officer Roy Dwartman loomed just outside the pet shop, his muscular bulk seeming out of place. His cranky scowl was a stark contrast to the cheerful cartoon puppy welcoming you to “YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND.”

“Caught in traffic?” he asked.

“Something like,” she told him. “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“I was looking out for you.”

She arched an eyebrow.

He sulked. “There’re animals in there. I don’t like animals.”

“Do you like your job?” she asked. Scowling, he opened the door and followed her inside.

They were immediately greeted with a chorus of angry barks and the sounds of cages shaking.

“Are those things gonna hold?” Roy asked the nearest uniform.

“Where’s the body?” Tisha asked.

“In the back office,” the uniform said, answering the only question he could guarantee an answer to. “Dr. Holdren is examining it.”

“Who found it?”

The uniform pointed. “Over by the toys.”

Tisha glanced across the room. A woman towered over Officer David Park, dwarfing his not-inconsiderable height. The good-natured detective’s posture radiated calm and comfort, but from the way the woman crushed the plastic football in her hands, he wasn’t succeeding.

It took only a few steps to bring Tisha to them. Hearing her footsteps, David turned and - while the woman couldn’t see him - mouthed “thank you.”

“Detective!” he said. “Ms. Mendoza, this is Detective Tisha Wiles. Detective, this is Rona Mendoza.”

“Ms. Mendoza,” she said, extending her hand. “I know -“

“Officer,” Rona said, squeezing the toy in her hand. Squeak.

“I’m sorry?” Tisha asked.

“It’s Officer Mendoza,” Rona repeated, and punctuated it with another squeak. Tisha belatedly noticed the uniform. It wasn’t one she recognized. “With the Maryland Humane Society,” Rona elaborated.

Behind her, Roy snorted. “Animal cop.” Tisha watched Rona’s eyes narrow.

“Officer, why don’t you help the uniforms sweep the scene,” Tisha said.

Roy looked like he was about to protest, so she added, quietly: “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

David clapped his friend on the back. “C’mon, let’s go.” He turned back to Rona and smiled sheepishly. “Do you have-“

Tisha had already pulled out the gloves. David grabbed them with a murmured ‘thank you’ and hustled his partner away.

Tisha turned back to Rona.

“Do you mind I I ask you a few questions?”
Squeak. “I’ve already given the other officer my statement.”

Tisha smiled sympathetically. “It helps to go over the story multiple times. Sometimes you remember a detail in the second telling that you didn’t the first time.”

“There’s nothing to remember.” Except for a certain peevishness, Mendoza’s face was expressionless. Squeak. “The store was empty when I arrived. I went into his office and found him dead.”

“What time did you find the body?” Tisha asked.

“11 PM.”

“Was the door open when you got here?”

“Yes.”

“Store closes at 9,” Tisha said. “Didn’t you find that strange?”

Squeak. “No. Patrick was expecting me.”

Tisha wrote that in her notebook. The plastic football in Mendoza’s hands let out another pained yelp.

“You knew the victim?” Tisha asked.

“He was involved in one of my cases,” the other officer said. “I came here because he said he had a lead for me.” She clutched the plastic toy again. A strange popping sound accompanied its final squeak, for which Tisha was grateful.

“He couldn’t give it to you over the phone?” she asked.

“Well I guess so,” Mendoza said. “I can’t claim to speak for the dead, but I assume if he could’ve given it over the phone, he would have. Look, how much longer do you need me here?”

“Why, got somewhere to be?” Tisha asked.

“I have ten cruelty complaints I need to investigate tomorrow. I’d like to be awake for them.”

Tisha took a moment to study her. The plastic toy wheezed with distress, but Mendoza met her gaze steadily.

“Of course,” Tisha said. “Do you have a card?” The officer handed one over, and Tisha walked her to the front door. “We’ll be in touch tomorrow with more questions.”

Mendoza nodded and pulled the door open.

“Officer.” Mendoza tensed and turned around slowly. “The football.”

A moment of incomprehension, then Mendoza looked down. “Shit. Uh -“

Tisha took pity on her. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

Mendoza nodded and hurried out the door. Tisha watched her get into a monstrous blue truck and pull away.

“I don’t like her,” Roy said, coming up behind her.

“You don’t like anyone,” Tisha muttered absently, and walked into the office.

David squatted by Dr. Danny Holdren, the medical examiner.

“Where’s Frank?” Tisha asked. David caught Danny’s attention and gestured to Tisha; she signed “hello” (one of the few phrases she knew).

“Big exam tomorrow morning. Danny didn’t want to wake him.” Frank was Danny’s translator, and a med student studying to be a medical examiner.

“That’s nice of him,” Tisha said dryly. “So what are we going to do?”

Danny pulled out a notepad and held it up. He had already written on it: Three steps ahead of you. Tisha nodded.

“I’m assuming those holes in his chest are the cause of death,” she said. “So what’s the time of death?”

Danny gestured 5 to 9.

“That’s a pretty big window,” Tisha said. Danny scribbled in the pad. It’s the best you’re gonna get here. I’ll have more for you post-autopsy.

“Is there anything else you can give me?” Tisha asked, and Danny grinned widely and pointed to his smile. David tried unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle; Tisha just gave him a deadpan look.

Danny scribbled. No obvious physical evidence from the perp. Only thing I can give you right now is advice - go home. Sleep. Trust me, I’m a doctor.

“A doctor for dead people,” Tisha said. It took a moment for Danny to interpret what she said; he shrugged.

“He’s got a point,” David said.

“Of course he does,” Tisha said. “Have you done a grid search of this room?”

“Inch by inch,” David said. “We got the bullet cases, but nothing else.”

“Out there too,” Roy said, poking his head in. “Nada and nothing. Promising, at least.”

“Lovely,” Tisha said. “Send uniforms to canvass the neighborhood for witnesses.”

“There’s not gonna be any around right now,” Roy pointed out.

“Tomorrow, then,” Tisha said. “Let’s get this evidence back to the station.”



Rona pulled into an empty parking lot a few blocks away and rested her head on the wheel. Then she leaned back, banging her head against the headrest and pulling her hair. Her nerves screamed, and it took all her effort to not claw at her skin, to try and breathe.

But every fresh breath reminded her of Patrick’s blood, cloying the air of his tiny office. She was no stranger to dead bodies, even human ones. She didn’t have trouble with the stench of death and decay.

So much blood.
She rolled down her window and stuck her head outside. She spent a few minutes just breathing deeply, city smog cleaning out the reek of blood. Finally her nerves calmed and her vision cleared enough for her to - very carefully - finish the drive home.

It was 1:30 AM by the time she unlocked the front door. To her surprise, her roommate Karen was still awake, curled up on the couch with a book in one hand and their cat Grizzly in her lap.

“How did it go?” she asked. Rona stared at her blankly, belatedly remembering that she had mentioned Patrick’s call.

Evidently she took too long to answer. Karen put down the book and gently dislodged the cat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

It took Rona a few moments to find the words, trying to find something that seemed right. But there was no right way to say it, so she settled for blunt.

“He’s dead.” She collapsed onto the couch. “And no, I didn’t do it.” It felt strangely important to say that, to forestall the jokes that Karen wouldn’t have made anyway.

“Shit,” Karen breathed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Rona said. “I mean, it was murder. But the dogs didn’t recognize who did it.” She leaned back and groaned.

“Are you all right?” Karen asked softly.

“The least he could’ve done was left me a note or something,” Rona said. “He was my only lead.”

She had deliberately dodged Karen’s real question, and was glad when her roommate didn’t call her on it.

“Maybe the murder investigation will turn up something,” she said.

“Maybe,” Rona said. Their cat Grizzly jumped into her lap and began kneading, her claws digging into Rona’s skin. The attempt at comfort was sweet, if painful. Such was life with cats.

“Go to bed,” Karen told her. “Things will look better in the morning.”

“A man is dead, Karen,” Rona said. “How exactly is that gonna look better?” Karen didn’t deign to respond to the admittedly petulant question, and Rona sighed.

Though she curled up in bed, Grizzly lying on her side and Rebel and Dusk, their two dogs, lying around her, sleep did not come.



Tisha had successfully managed to enter the apartment without awaking her parrot, Yarr, who had no concept of daytime and nighttime voices. The greater challenge was slipping into the bedroom without waking Jay. Ever so carefully, she crept through the doorway and slid under the covers, not bothering to fumble for her pajamas in the dark.

“You keep. The worst hours.”

She winced. Failure. “Sorry hon.” She gave him an apologetic kiss on the cheek.

Jay rolled over onto his side and propped up his head. His coal-black blended in with the darkness; all she could really see was the flash of his teeth when he spoke.

“So what was the emergency?” he asked.

Tisha sighed. “A murder,” she answered.

“Jesus Christ,” Jay breathed. “Who?”

“Nobody you know,” she told him. “You know I can’t talk about it.”

He wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled in close. “This is the last I’m gonna see of ya for awhile, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Tisha agreed. “I’ll be working some long shifts until this is done.” She moaned and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. “I’m too old to work on this little sleep.”

“You could always quit.” He kept his voice light, a little joking, but Tisha knew how seriously he felt about it. They had been talking about it for months. “My school could always use another security guard.”

“Mmm, yes,” she said. “Those first graders of yours are a real public menace.”

“I don’t trust ‘em,” Jay said. “I’d feel much safer with you around.”

“I bet you would,” she chuckled.

When Jay next spoke, his voice was serious. “Promise me you’ll think about it?” he asked.

“Right now, the only thing I want to think about is sleep,” Tisha said. She could feel his disapproval, and sighed. “I’ll think about it. Just let me get through this investigation.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said.

“You do that,” she said. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Next