Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lexi
The parking lot had become a true circus.
Two more police cruisers arrived over the next five minutes and idled at odd angles, their red and blue lights strobing across the asphalt.
Staff from the facility had exited and huddled in clusters, shivering in the cold, while someone shouted something about a pig trying to worm its way under a Prius.
Barbie touched my elbow. “Lexi. I’d like you to meet someone.”
She guided me two steps to the right, where a tall woman with blond hair and wearing an elegant blue coat and a red scarf stood. “Lexi, this is Mandy Persimmon. Mandy works for PETA in Washington, DC.”
I smiled and held out my hand. “Thanks for coming all this way in the middle of the night.”
“For Barbie, I’d do just about anything,” Mandy replied. “But I assure you, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. We’ve been trying to bring these guys down for years.”
Before I could respond, a roar cut through the noise.
“There she is!” Baldy stormed out of the building, his face so red it looked painful. His finger stabbed the air as he barreled toward me.
“She took my dog,” he bellowed. “That’s the one. She stole her!”
I held my hands up. “Hey, calm down. I don’t have your dog.”
“You did this!” he screamed, jabbing a finger so close I could feel the heat coming off him. “You sabotaged my facility and stole my dog…again!”
A police officer stepped between us. “Excuse me, sir, please calm down. Let’s start with your name.”
“Richard,” he snapped. “But everyone around here calls me Dick.”
I stared at him. That felt amazingly accurate.
“She took my dog!” he bellowed again. “Arrest her at once.”
The policeman turned to me. “And what’s your name, ma’am?”
“Lexi Carmichael. And I don’t have his dog.”
The policeman turned back to Dick. “Sir, how do you know she has your dog?”
“I’m the manager of this lab,” Dick went on, puffing up. “I oversee operations. Assets. Security. I know exactly what’s supposed to be in my building and what isn’t. And my dog is missing.”
“Your dog?” I repeated mildly.
“Yes, my dog,” he shouted. “A valuable research subject. Do you have any idea what she’s worth? What she represents?”
The officer blinked. “Sir, are you saying the dog belongs to you personally?”
Dick sputtered. “No, I mean the lab…obviously the lab…but I manage it. That dog is a research subject, making it my responsibility.”
The policeman turned to me. “Ma’am, are you in possession of his dog?”
“I am not,” I said carefully.
“And you, sir,” he said, turning toward Dick. “Are you saying you believe this woman broke into your facility and stole the research dog this evening?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I held up my hands. “Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. You’re accusing me of breaking into your secure research facility with full-time staff and surveillance, stealing an animal, and vanishing it into thin air?”
“That’s not—” Baldy waved his arms. “You’re twisting this.”
“I’m just trying to understand,” I said. “Because it sounds like either your security sucks or the dog was never as secure as you’re claiming.”
Dick’s face went from red to a dangerous shade of purple. “You’re trying my patience. I want her arrested at once.”
The officer rubbed his temples. “Sir, I can’t arrest her without proof, and please, lower your voice. Shouting is not necessary.”
“I will not lower my voice,” Dick snapped. “This is my lab, my operation, my research, and I want my dog back now.”
“Okay, sir,” the officer said patiently. “Tell me what you think happened tonight.”
“Obviously, she broke into the facility and stole my dog,” Dick repeated, vibrating with rage. “Why else would she be here?”
The officer looked between us, thoughtful. “He has a point. So, ma’am, why are you here at nearly three o’clock in the morning?”
I kept my voice calm. “A few days ago, we found a dog running loose near Batsto Village. We intended to take her to a shelter to find out if she was chipped and had a home. This man showed up at four in the morning with police and took her from us before we could even get her to the shelter.”
“Because she’s my dog,” he repeated. “I have the papers to prove it.”
“We relinquished the dog as requested by the police,” I continued.
“Although the dog was growling and clearly did not want to leave with…Dick. One of his staff actually had to shoot the dog with a dart gun, without provocation, scaring not only us but startling the police as well. Given how forceful he was with the dog and with us, we worried there might be other animals loose from his facility, or at risk, near the Batsto Village vicinity. As a result, when we received an anonymous text telling us that dogs, including the one we had cared for, were in danger at this location, we came. The text said we had to be here by 3:00 a.m.”
“And to our surprise, when we arrived, this was unfolding.” I gestured vaguely at the chaos.
Dick exploded. “I’m warning you. You’d better give me my dog back.”
“Okay, take her back.” I held open my hands.
The officer turned to Dick and studied him. “Does this facility have security cameras?”
Dick straightened, eyes suddenly gleaming. “Yes. Yes, of course we do. State-of-the-art.”
“Great,” the officer said. “Finally, something I can work with. Let’s go take a look at them.” He looked over his shoulder at another officer. “Joe, get everyone inside now. Start taking some statements and see if we can figure out what happened here.”
The police herded everyone into the lobby while a few staff members wrangled the easier animals back indoors.
They scooped up the smaller dogs and herded the bigger ones.
Cats were bribed with treats. One staff member walked in carrying a furious tabby like a bomb technician handling unstable explosives.
No one touched the pig for now, leaving it under the Prius, which wobbled occasionally. No one even looked at the chimpanzee, as they all appeared to value their arms and faces. Both animals remained loose in the parking lot, which felt like a deliberate statement.
As we started into the facility, the chimp stood up on the now-dented car hood like a tiny, furious dictator, screaming at anyone who dared make eye contact. Every time someone moved nearby, it slapped the hood again and the car alarm restarted, creating an endless loop of panic and beeping.
“Sir,” the policeman said to Baldy. “You need to get that pig and chimp inside the lab. They’re a public hazard.”
Dick opened the door to the lobby and shouted at the remaining staff to get the chimp and pig inside or their jobs were on the line.
We watched through the glass doors as Devon and another staff member left through the doors, arguing in increasingly frantic whispers.
We all, including Baldy, stopped to watch as Devon’s partner surveyed the situation and returned, muttering to himself.
He returned two minutes later pushing a rolling medical cart with a large plastic case.
He popped open the case with shaking hands and assembled a tranquilizer dart gun. Then he and Devon cautiously approached the chimp, clearly trying to get the best angle for a shot. The chimp, in opposition, bared its teeth and screamed louder.
The pig chose that exact moment to charge out from under the Prius. For reasons known only to the pig, it made a beeline for the car where the chimp sat. Unfortunately, that path intersected with dart gun guy, who was carefully lining up his shot at the chimp.
The resulting impact caused the gun to go off, not at the chimp, but at a nearby police car.
It barely missed an officer standing nearby and embedded itself into the windshield, which promptly cracked into thousands of pieces and slumped inward.
Meanwhile, the pig veered off across the parking lot and disappeared.
The chimp seemed to think the whole escapade was hilarious as he laughed maniacally and ran back and forth across the top of the car. I didn’t envy the owner of the car who would have to make that insurance claim.
“Shoot the chimp!” Devon yelled again. “Before he gets away into the trees.”
“I need another dart,” the other employee shouted.
Devon raced back inside to get the dart.
Outside, the chimp chattered and leaped from the hood to a light pole with terrifying athletic grace.
By the time Devon returned, the chimp had leaped back to the car and was continuing his drumming efforts on the top of the car instead of the hood.
Reloaded, the staffer aimed the dart gun, steadied, and fired.
The dart hit.
The chimp froze, looked offended, and slowly slumped onto the top of the car. Devon caught him before he slid to the ground.
“Help me,” he hollered as he sagged under the weight. Together the two men managed to carry the chimp back into the facility.
The pig had mysteriously disappeared, though most of the other animals had been rounded up or coaxed back inside.
“Is this normal?” I asked innocently.
No one answered.