“Afraid so,” she said.
“So is it still our homicide? I mean, it’s not one of our cold cases.”
Katie sighed. “Technically, you’re right. We need to talk to the sheriff.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Seven
Monday 1935 hours
Katie drove the unmarked police cruiser up her long driveway and cut the engine. She sat behind the wheel and didn’t move at first. It was only Monday and she was already exhausted. Glancing at her watch, it was later than she realized. A familiar sound interrupted her musings over the new homicide. The distinct bark could only belong to a German shepherd. Loud. Rapid. And at times incessant.
“I’m coming, Cisco,” she said, popping out of the car and trudging toward the front porch of her farmhouse carrying her thoughts about the case along with her physical things.
Opening the front door, the sleek black dog with wolfish amber eyes bounced with happiness around her, barely allowing her to enter the living room.
“Hey, big guy. You have a good day?” she said. Her voice only made him even more excited. She dropped everything she was carrying by the front door as the eighty-pound dog circled several times around her and then bounced up and off the couch before he began to settle down. A few high-pitched whines and a look as if to say “where have you been?” followed Katie into the kitchen where she set to work preparing his meal.
“Sorry I’m so late today. We have a new case. At least, I think it’s our case,” she said, watching him gobble down his food and remembering the times she had fed him when they were on tour in Afghanistan—outside, in tents, and various other makeshift camps. Not all those memories were traumatizing. She had been paired with Cisco and made friends there she would keep forever. They were all bonds that could never be broken. She was grateful that her uncle was able to call in some favors and coordinate Cisco’s release back to the US—as a hero dog after several tours and dozens, if not a hundred, of explosive finds. Katie had lost count.
Katie hurried to her bedroom and quickly changed into a comfy pair of pajamas. She was going to get to bed early tonight, because tomorrow was going to be a long day at work. There were so many things running through her mind that she just wanted to get sleep over and done with so she could get started.
A cold nose touched her hand; Cisco nuzzled her as if to tell her that he had missed her and wanted her to stay with him.
“Okay, let’s go outside.”
The dog padded along behind her to the sliding door leading to the backyard. She opened the door and Cisco dashed outside. The area had been specially fenced for him, to keep him safe and happy, but in a way that still allowed for the beauty of the rural setting to be enjoyed. Solid pine trees skirted the ten meandering acres, some even fifty feet tall. Mature lemon and orange trees grew along one side of the property along with two large walnut trees. In between were blooming bushes and flowers that had been planted originally by her parents—specifically her dad. He had loved the outdoors, and wanted to make his yard and surrounding property as bountiful with nature as possible. In her mind, he had succeeded. Once her childhood home, the house passed to her after her parents were killed in an accident when she was a teenager. Cisco and her uncle were her only family now.
Katie stood on the patio and took in the crisp air filling her lungs, allowing her to unwind—remembering fond times when she was young—playing and running around the acreage. She shivered slightly, but it helped her to focus on the moment instead of what had happened in the past. She watched as Cisco made his usual rounds of checking the fence and some interesting bushes, did his business, and finally returned to her inside the house.
Glancing at her watch, she had a few minutes before her 8 p.m. forty-five minute virtual session with Dr. Megan Carver. The psychologist had made special arrangements with Katie for online bi-monthly sessions. It was important to have the meetings on Mondays, per Dr. Carver’s instruction, due to the fact Katie’s anxiety was generally higher at the beginning of the week.
Katie opened the refrigerator and took out some cold chicken leftovers from the night before and quickly ate a piece. She would make something proper to eat after her session.
She moved to the living room, sat down on the couch, and opened her laptop. Feeling more relaxed with the comfort of being at home, she took a couple of deep breaths and keyed up the app to wait for Dr. Carver’s call. She tried to push the images of the victim out of her head, but the ominous carved letters glared back at her.
Cisco edged his way closer to Katie on the couch and tucked his body in tight next to her.
A high-pitch ringing sound emitted from the computer. On the screen, it read: Megan Carver, LCSW MFT. It was exactly 8 p.m.
Katie accepted the call and a window popped up showing a woman with dark brown hair loosely pulled back away from her face. She put her glasses on and smiled. “Hi, Katie,” she said.
Katie smiled. “Hi, Dr. Carver.”
“Are you ready?” the doctor said.
Katie nodded. “Yep.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me about your day today?”
Katie tensed. “Well, it was rather eventful.”
“What was the first thing that you did today after leaving the house?”
“Well, I went for a run with my partner McGaven.” She smiled. “He’s trying to lose a few pounds and asked me to run with him.”
Dr. Carver wrote down some notes that Katie couldn’t see. Looking back at the computer, she asked, “How were you feeling on your run?”
“Fine.”
“Did you experience any out of place feeling or strong emotions?”
“I don’t think so. I love running—it’s my way of creating time and space from everything else.”
“But you shared it with your partner?”
“Yes, but…”
Dr. Carver waited patiently for Katie to explain.
“It’s different,” Katie finally said.
“How?”
“It’s… just different. It was more friend time instead of alone time.” Katie began to feel a pressure build in her chest. She took a deeper breath, trying to relax.
“So, you chose to run with your friend, your partner. He’s important to you?”
“Of course.”
“I know that you told me that he had recently been involved in a shooting and that he spent time in the hospital.”
“Yes.” Katie readjusted herself on the couch. She wanted to run, unsure of where, but just run away. The feeling haunted her. The room seemed to shrink around her, making it difficult to breathe.
“How did it make you feel?” the doctor gently pushed.
Katie wasn’t sure how to answer. She had all kinds of feelings: discomfort, dread, fear, anxiety. What did the doctor really want to know? Feeling uncontrollable emotions were a part of everyday life for Katie. Anxious energy shuddered through her body.
Dr. Carver kept her eyes on Katie. She pushed again, “How did it make you feel when Deputy McGaven was shot and ended up in the hospital?”
“How do you think it made me feel?” Katie’s voice cracked slightly under the pressure. “I felt responsible. What if he…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.