Page 23 of Bad Seed

If they’re not already on, go turn on your outside lights. Get to the station early tomorrow. Talk to Aaron and Wiley before they go out on patrol. Give them your statement and turn in the note. Maybe they can get prints off of it. And I’ll be at your house by 8:00 a.m. I swear to God, I thought Wiley’s crazy exes were bad, but this is over the top. Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.

Brendan’s shoulders slumped in relief.

He set the alarm on his phone, then put it on the charger and crawled into bed. Just as he was falling asleep, Amalie’s warning slid through his mind.

Someone’s coming. She’s going to need your help. Don’t shy away. It’s meant to be.

And then he slept.

***

It was a quarter to eight the next morning when Brendan Pope walked into the Jubilee Police Department. As always, Sergeant Winter was at the front desk. He looked up and grinned when he saw who was coming in.

“Morning, Brendan.”

“Morning, Sarge. I need to speak to my brothers. I’m here to file a complaint.”

“They’re just finishing up roll call. I’ll let Chief Warren know. Have a seat,” Winters said.

Brendan walked back to the row of chairs lined up against the wall and sat down. Less than five minutes later, both of his brothers came charging up the hall like the front line of the Green Bay Packers. Aaron reached him first, but Wiley was right behind him.

“What’s wrong? You’re filing a complaint? Against whom?” Aaron asked.

Wiley followed up with his own question. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just being hassled.”

Aaron grabbed him by the arm. “This way. We’ll talk in private,” he said, and took Brendan to an empty interrogation room, sat him down, and pulled up chairs around the table.

“Talk to us,” Wiley said. He turned on the recorder and started the interview by introducing himself and Wiley, and then Brendan introduced himself as the complainant.

“Okay, Brendan, tell us why you’re here, and who you’re filing a complaint against,” Aaron said.

Brendan took a deep breath. He’d kept this to himself for so long that it was going to feel weird even talking about it.

“I’m here because I’ve been stalked and harassed for the past five months by Justine Beaumont, the daughter of Larry Beaumont, who is the manager at the Serenity Inn where I’m employed.”

He went into detail about everything that had happened, including the knife attack, and then got to the end of the story by pulling out the plastic bag with the note.

“When I came home from work, this unsigned note was on my front door. The words read: ‘I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.’ It was taped to my front door. I haven’t touched it. I removed it with tweezers and put it in this plastic bag, debating with myself as to what to do, but this situation feels like it’s escalating. I’m having security cameras installed in case this happens again. I hope you can retrieve prints from the note that will prove who sent it. But if not, at least this report will be on file.”

“Do you want to press charges?” Wiley asked.

“It depends whether you find her prints on the note or not,” he said.

Aaron picked up the plastic bag. “We’ll log this into evidence and send it to the lab. One way or the other, you will be notified of the results, and you can decide what you want to do after that. Is that satisfaction enough for you now?” he asked.

“Yes,” Brendan said.

“Interview terminated at 08:20 a.m. Thursday, February 20th,” Aaron said, and turned off the recorder.

“I know this wasn’t easy for you, but you did the right thing,” Wiley said.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Aaron asked. “I mean…five months of that had to be crazy.”

Brendan shrugged. “Because I’m a grown-ass man and admitting all that’s happening is a bit embarrassing. I’ve been hit on countless times in my life. We all have, and you know it. It was never a big deal, and never in a threatening manner. Never to this extent.”

Aaron nodded. “Understood.”

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