14 Chapter 14

Sweat drips down my brow and my tee is soaked. My brown BDUs are damp too. I need water, so I walk back to Sally for my water bottle. It was completely frozen when I left the apartment earlier. It's lukewarm now. I take a healthy swallow.

I search for Mama Kane for an hour, but I can't find her. A homeless man I'm unfamiliar with tells me she's at Veterans hospital. Her goat went with animal control. I head to the hospital and receive bad news. Someone assaulted Mama Kane and she's in critical condition. A nurse tells me that no one has visited her and that I'm the first to ask how she's doing.

It's so incredibly sad. As a cop, I was limited in what I could do. The homeless are considered a problem. It was my job to keep them in line. Don't get me wrong, I helped where I could. It's never enough, though.

The nurse tells me that the cops want to know when she dies. This should make me angry, but I know it means the detectives have a suspect. If Mama Kane dies, the charges will change to include homicide. The nurse doesn't know anything about the goat.

I leave the hospital and swing back into Sunnyslope to head to the Humane Society, which is off Hatcher. My friend Kelsy works there. I love animals, but can't have pets at my apartment. I can't afford one either. Coming here always makes me sad, but I need to find out about Mama Kane's goat.

"Hey, Mak, what's happening?" Kelsy asks as soon as I walk through the doors. Barking dogs can be heard from a hallway to my left. I try not to let the sound get to me.

Kelsy is my age, mid-twenties, and has worked here since a year after graduating high school. We met our sophomore year and became friends. She has two dogs-one blind and one with three legs. Cats also, and I think the last time we caught up, it was four black ones. She takes the cats no one wants and secretly tries to find homes for them. A lot of that goes on here, but because they euthanize, the Society gets a bad rap. Kelsy explained that no-kill shelters do exactly as they advertise and don't do the killing themselves. When they can no longer keep an animal, they bring it to the Humane Society and let them do the evil deed. Bullshit is what I say. It's a necessary evil, and I'm only glad that it isn't me doing it. I saw too many loose dogs running through the streets at night while on patrol. Some were nothing but skin and bone. If people spay and neuter their pets, this wouldn't be a problem.

"Not much, Kelsy. I came from Veterans and Mama Kane. It doesn't look good. I'm looking for her goat." Mama Kane would never tell anyone her goat's name. She just called it "goat."

"So sorry, Mak. I heard one of her friends wigged out and it went bad. They arrested him and animal control picked up the goat."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, if you take a kitten for me." She is such a weasel.

I groan. "You know I can't, and you're a bitch for asking."

I get a grin. "Sneak her in. The apartment management will never know. People do it all the time."

"They'll know."

Her shoulders drop. "What do you need?" she asks on a sigh.

"A call to animal control to check on the goat. I don't want the department to know I'm working the area." Kelsy knows all about how I'm treated by the officers who were once my friends. It pisses her off. She thinks a PI is way cooler than being a cop. She also knows that animal control in this area has close ties with the Wendell Precinct. One of the animal control officer's husbands works patrol in Sunnyslope.

She makes the call while I wait. I can only hear her side of the conversation. She tells whoever answered the phone to call her if Mama Kane dies because she might have a home for the goat.

"You think you have a home?" I ask as soon as she hangs up the phone.

"No, but I think you'll find one."

This time I groan loud and long. "I hate you."

"You love animals and someday you'll be in a place where you can have a menagerie. Then you'll pay me back for all the favors I do for you."

When I worked this area, Kelsy gave me dog food to hand out to the homeless while I was on graveyard shifts, and she swung some free medication my way too. I know she paid for it out of her own pocket, but she never let me help. It's her way of giving back to this small, nutzoid community within the big city.

I head out to my boiling hot car wondering how the hell I'll find a home for a goat.

I won't lie. I think about Moon at least a hundred times throughout the day. This is because I'm an idiot and because his quiet control does something for me sexually. Maybe I'll try a dating site and get someone on the side. There must be men out there who just want a booty call. I'm not at all happy that Moon has taken away my infatuation with my vibrator. I won't ask for much if a man is interested in helping me out-no dates, just a hard dick now and then that doesn't stop working when the batteries run out.

I'm at my apartment, which I've cleaned. I even made my bed, and that's a small miracle. It's all because I can't stop thinking about Moon. Nervous energy fills me. For dinner, I scramble two eggs and place them on a cold flour tortilla, wrap it up, and eat it burrito style. I eat while standing in my kitchen. Again, it's that nervous energy that won't leave me alone. I plan to grocery shop tomorrow so I have more options when it comes to meals. I have money in the bank for a change and need to stock up while I can. Part of the money will go for rent and bills, but I swear I'm buying enough food to last for more than a few days.

My sleep is restless. The following day, I run errands, which include buying groceries. I also haul my laundry to the laundry unit where I'm assigned at the apartment complex. There are six washing machines and three dryers. I use two to wash and two to dry while I read a newspaper left behind by who I'm sure is an older resident. I would typically surf the internet on my phone. While scanning the pages, I daydream about what if. What if Moon was a normal guy? What if Moon wasn't up to his eyeballs in illegal activity? What if Moon wasn't hot? What if Moon had a wart on his nose? These thoughts solve nothing and give me a headache.

I haul the clean laundry back to my apartment and put it away. The laundry room is hotter than my apartment, which sucks. I'm hot and sweaty, so I take a shower. I hear my cell ringing and get out of the shower just in time to answer it.

It's Kelsy. "Mama Kane died and the goat doesn't have much time."

"Fuck," I whisper. "I'll think of something, hold the green mile off as long as you can."

"Will do and sorry, Mak. I know you liked Mama."

"Thanks," I say before disconnecting. I did like Mama Kane. She had her moments, but most of the time she was a gentle old lady who lived a rough life. I knew she was in the military long before women were accepted there. The thought of her tragic life depresses me. Could I end up like Mama Kane? I have my parents now, but what about after they're gone. You never know what life will hand you.

Trying to quiet my morose thoughts, I stretch out as much as possible on the loveseat and turn on the news. I washed my hair and now I weave it into a long, wet braid. I'm hearing about the third homicide of the night when there's a knock at my door.

No one ever knocks at my door. I'm in a tee and my favorite cotton short shorts. They're indecent, and I don't wear them outside the apartment. I walk over to the door and check the peephole.

Fucking shit. It's Moon. He's standing back from the door with his hands in his suit pants pockets. That's all I can really see because the small, rounded glass distorts his features. I throw back the locks and open the door about four inches.

"Why are you here, Moon?" I ask before I see the two men standing off to the side. One's Gomez. I look back at Moon wondering what the hell is going on. This time I take a good look at him. He's tired. He has lines around his eyes and dark circles beneath them. My heart does a flip-flop.

He turns to Gomez. "Satisfied?" he barks. "Wait down at the car."

"Moon?" Gomez questions.

Moon runs a hand over his head. "Just go, Alex. I'll be down shortly." I can't see Moon's face as the two men leave. Moon turns his attention to me. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hello." I can't tell if he's joking. His eyes are haunted and he looks so depressed. "Don't invite me in," he says quietly.

"I have no intention of allowing you inside," I say just as quietly. I would, though. I'd throw away my earlier resolution to never see him again if he'd smile.

We stand looking at each other for the longest time. Something in his eyes changes in a scary way. Before I can close the door, he pushes it with his foot, takes his hands from his pockets, and drags me outside. The door closes behind me.