Page 11 of After the Vows

The radio squawks. “Officer Fellows. Come in, Officer Fellows.”

“This is Fellows.”

“Tourists called in a disturbance on Reef Road.”

“On our way.”

Weston hits the sirens and I switch on the lights while he makes a U-turn.

“Are all of the street names on Smuggler’s Hideaway unusual?”

“One thing you should know.” He grins. “There’s nothing usual about Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

We arrive on Reef Road and Weston pulls to a stop in front of a large crowd of people. I frown. “Domestic?”

“We’ll see,” Weston sings.

Shit. His grin is not a good sign. Is this part of my hazing? Am I being pranked?

There’s no sense incomplaining or asking questions. I learned when I first joined the police force twelve years ago. Accept the bullshit. Let everyone laugh at you. It’ll be over and forgotten soon enough.

When Weston motions me forward in front of him, I know this is part of my hazing. I force my way through the crowd to reach the center of attention.

I skid to a halt when I notice a seal lying in the middle of the road.

“How the hell did you get a seal here to haze me?”

“This isn’t a hazing. This is Sammy. Hey, Sammy.”

The seal lifts its flipper and waves to Weston. I rub my eyes. I must be seeing things. Because a seal did not just wave to my new partner.

“Sammy is an escapee from Sealife.”

“Okay. Let’s get in touch with Sealife and get Sammy back home.”

“Nah. Sammy’s not going anywhere. Except to get off the road.”

“How is this not a hazing?” I ask because he can’t seriously think I’m going to move a seal. Seals are wild animals. I shouldn’t be touching him. Not to mention he probably weighs five hundred pounds.

“Sammy’s a Smuggler’s Hideaway resident.”

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Weston. I’m done with the riddles. I have enough riddles and confusion at home with my pre-teen daughter. I don’t need the confusion in my work life as well.

“Explain.”

“Sammy was at Sealife as a pup. They set him free when he was older but he wasn’t interested in living life as a wild seal. He came ashore in Smuggler’s Hideaway and hasn’t left since.”

“And what? You let him roam free through the island?”

“Not free. Sammy’s not allowed to pretend to be a traffic stop.” He wags his finger at the seal. “Are you?”

Sammy covers his face with his flipper. And here I thought I’d seen it all as a police officer in Baltimore. I was wrong.

“How do we get him off the street?”

“There’s one sure way.” Weston kneels down close to the seal. “Sammy, get off the road before I call the dog catchers. The dog catchers.”

Sammy barks before wriggling off of the road. “Bye, Sammy boy.”

---