26. The Ask
The Ask
ANDY
Jeremy and I were three blocks out when dispatch sent us to a residential burglar alarm on the west side. Monitored system, front door sensor tripped, homeowner not on-site.
We pulled up to a two-story with a stone facade, tall windows, and a security company sign staked near the front walkway. The alarm was still going. Underneath it, a dog barking. Deep, constant, furious.
Jeremy looked at me. "That's a big dog."
We drew our weapons and approached on foot. The front door was closed but unlocked.
I pushed the door open and the barking got louder.
The burglar was on the kitchen floor. A man in dark clothes, face down, one arm tucked under his chest and the other wrapped around his head.
There was blood on his forearm where the sleeve was torn through.
A Rottweiler stood over him with its front paws planted on either side of his back, teeth bared, growling low and steady.
A set of lockpicks sat on the tile near the doorway.
He wasn't going anywhere. The dog had made that decision before we got there.
"LVMPD. Stay on the ground. Don't move."
"Please get the dog off me." His voice was shaking. "I'm not moving. I'll do whatever you want. Just get the dog off me."
Jeremy kept his eyes on the suspect while I holstered and called it in: animal control for the dog, medical for the bite. We held our positions until both arrived.
Animal control looped the Rottweiler and walked it out. Medical cleaned and wrapped the man's arm, and then Jeremy and I moved in.
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you." Jeremy paused. "Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?"
The man nodded.
"I need a verbal answer."
"Yes."
Jeremy walked him to the cruiser. The house was tossed. Drawers open, closets emptied, cushions pulled off the furniture. Twenty minutes later, a man in a suit walked through the front door and stopped in the living room, looking at the mess.
"Sir, this is an active scene. Can I get your name?"
"Preston Lockwood. This is my house. My alarm company called me."
I walked him through it. The alarm dispatch, what we found when we arrived, the suspect now in custody. He moved through the house room by room, checking drawers, opening the safe in his office. Same answer everywhere. Nothing was taken.
"Looks like Bruno got to him before he could take anything." He said it with a trace of satisfaction. Then he turned to me. "Where's my dog?"
"Animal control has him in a ten-day quarantine hold. Any dog involved in a bite has to be observed. It's standard procedure."
"Quarantine for rabies? His vaccinations are current. I have the records."
"If that's the case, they may be able to clear him for home quarantine.
You'd have the dog back here under observation instead of at the facility.
" I pulled a card from my belt. "This is the number for Clark County Animal Protection.
They can walk you through it. Your dog did a good job tonight, Mr. Lockwood. He's going to be fine."
He looked at the card, then tucked it into his jacket pocket.
"Thank you, Officer."
I finished the report, thanked Lockwood for his time, and walked out. The suspect was in the back of the cruiser, his wrapped arm resting on his lap.
I clapped Jeremy on the shoulder. "Good work today."
"The dog did most of it."
I smiled. "You did the rest."
"We've had a couple of these over the past few months," I said. "Same thing. Picked lock, place tossed, nothing taken. No suspect until now."
"You think this is the same guy?"
"Maybe. We'll see what comes back after booking."
We drove him to the detention center, filed the paperwork, and clocked out. In the parking lot, I tossed Jeremy my keys to hold while I fixed my hair in the side mirror.
"You want to grab a drink? There's a bar on my block. The crew will probably be there."
"Yeah," he said. "I could do that."
We pulled out of the lot and headed toward West Ashmont. Jeremy fiddled with the radio. I leaned my head back against the seat and let the day settle.
Doug would have taken one look at that Rottweiler, looked me dead in the eye, and told me I told you so.
The Lantern was loud when we walked in.
The crew was at their usual table. Knox at the bar, Travis mid-argument with Greene about something that was probably nobody's fault, Wyatt in the corner with a beer. Gus was behind the counter. Selena had her arms crossed, watching Travis with the patience of a woman who'd seen everything.
"Walsh brought a friend!" Travis called out when he saw Jeremy behind me.
"Everyone, this is Jeremy Murray. My new partner."
The ribbing started before Jeremy sat down. A rookie cop in a firefighter bar. Travis asked him if he knew how to play darts. Jeremy took it well. Laughed at the right things, gave it back when he could, and by the time Gus set a beer in front of him without being asked, the crew had made room.
"Terrence, this is Officer Jeremy Murray." Terrence set a beer down in front of me and shook Jeremy's hand across the bar.
"Nice to meet you, Officer Murray."
"You can just call me Jeremy."
"How are the interviews going?" I asked Terrence.
"I've got one next week." He grabbed a glass and started pouring. "Internship at a downtown firm."
"That's a big deal, Terrence. You're ready for this."
Gus appeared behind him. "You're doing the interview in my office. The computer in there is better, the door locks, and none of these animals can interrupt you." He squeezed the back of Terrence's neck. "Go show them what you've got."
Terrence smiled. "Thanks, Gus."
The noise settled after a while. Greene left early. Travis dragged Jeremy to the pool table. Knox stayed at his end of the bar.
Wyatt slid onto the stool beside me.
"Good day?"
"We caught the serial burglar."
"I heard. Jeremy told Travis, who told everyone." He took a sip of his beer. "I'm proud of you."
"Thank you."
His hand slid behind my neck and he pulled me toward him. I tasted the beer on his lips.
"I want to take you on a date. A real one. Just you and me."
I looked at him.
Elliot took me out once or twice, but always somewhere nobody would see us. Then everything moved behind closed doors. I didn't know how long I'd been waiting to be loved out loud until Wyatt asked me, right there, in a room full of people.
"Yeah," I said. "I'd like that."
I stood in front of my closet for a long time that night.
Wyatt told me he wanted to take me somewhere nice, and I wanted to look like I belonged there. I started pulling through the hangers. Work clothes, gym clothes, the shirts and jeans that made up every version of me the world was allowed to see. Nothing that said dinner. Nothing that said date.
Then I saw it.
The black dress. Fitted, simple. I bought it on the way to cook dinner for a man who didn't deserve it, in a life I'd already outgrown. It sat in the back of my closet through the move, unworn.
I pulled it off the hanger and held it against my body.
Maybe it was time to find out if it still fit.