Page 34 of Forensics of a Fable

“Please.” Bel nodded as they settled in to wait, but only thirty seconds passed before Portia rushed out into the lobby.

“Good morning, Detectives,” she greeted. “A litter of kittens is scheduled to be spayed today, so I have limited time, but is something wrong?”

“We need to talk to your staff,” Bel answered.

“Oh.” Portia looked around with a flustered expression. “All right, but we have a full schedule today. You can use my office, though. We’ll try to accommodate you.”

“That’s fine,” Bel said, following Portia into the back. She studied the vet’s response, and while she seemed reluctant to comply, it wasn’t out of guilt but the stress of an overbooked schedule.

One by one, the staff of Brick House Veterinary came in to be interviewed. Their availability was both staggered and limited, but it didn’t matter. By the time they spoke to the lastvet tech, the detectives had learned absolutely nothing. All the employees were upstanding citizens and devoted animal lovers who enjoyed their jobs.

“I’m sorry,” Gold sighed as they stretched their backs from sitting too long. “I really assumed I had something.”

“So did I. It made sense,” Bel said. “But it’s a small office. A patient could have learned where they stored the medication during an appointment. We’ll never get a warrant for their records, though. No judge will grant us one with only a hunch as evidence.”

“So, we’re back at square one.” Gold led the way to their cars. “I don’t know where else to look. Everything’s a dead end.”

“Maybe we’re looking too close to home,” Bel said, wracking her brain for ideas. “Bajka’s thrift store didn’t have records of a nightgown sale, but Alana wasn’t from here. Maybe the garments were purchased in another—”

“Detectives!” a female voice interrupted as a brunette vet tech came running out of the office. “Oh, thank goodness I caught you.” She was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties who they had interviewed first, but she had almost nothing to say during questioning, which made her chasing them odd.

“I didn’t think about it until after your interview,” she continued. “But a few months ago, a volunteer worked here. It was for his community service. A DUI, I think. Anyway, he wasn’t here long, but the guy was weird. He was always watching me, and he made a lot of the women uncomfortable. He was here for a few weeks before we expressed our concerns. Thankfully, Portia strives to make this a safe work environment, so she spoke to the court and had his community service location transferred.”

“Do you remember his name?” Bel asked.

“Yeah… um… oh gosh. It was something Locks,” the vet tech said. “Fred? No. Ford? It started with an F. Hold on, I’ll runinside and check.” She turned toward the building but only made it five paces before she whirled back around. “Foley, that was it. Foley Locks.”

“Thank you.” Olivia pulled out her phone, readying to call the station with the name.

“What makes you suspect this Foley Locks was the vandal?” Bel asked.

“Well, I can’t be sure he’s responsible, but he stopped working here right after the break-in.”

Gold droppedher car off at the station, and together, the detectives drove to Foley Locks’ place. The station had sent over his address, confirming the vet tech’s story about his dismissal due to employee complaints. It also coincided with the vandalism, and Bel thrummed with anticipation. She prayed this lead wasn’t another dead end.

The address led them to the outskirts of town, opposite from where Bel’s cabin and the Reale Estate were located, and it was obvious why this neighborhood was so far from town. The small homes were run down, and while they weren’t dilapidated, they didn’t possess the same charm as the rest of Bajka.

Bel parked in front of a one-story house with a yard that hadn’t been mowed in weeks. It was the least maintained homeon the block, but based on Foley Locks’ record, it didn’t surprise either detective. The man was a small-time troublemaker, his actions not enough to warrant jail time, but enough to give Sheriff Griffin a headache. He was in his late twenties, but it seemed his mentality never left the college frat parties.

“Bajka Police!” Bel called as she pounded on the front door. The detectives paused, waiting for an answer, but only silence greeted them. “Bajka Police!” she shouted louder as she knocked again, but still, her voice went ignored.

“He’s currently between jobs,” Olivia said as Bel stepped off the stoop. “Where could he be?”

“Bajka Police!” Bel shrugged as they circled the house, but the homeowner never answered. She peered through each window as she walked by, the lack of shades or curtains giving her ample view into the unkept home, but Foley was nowhere in sight. Without a warrant, they could only enter the building if probable cause presented itself, but unless having dirty dishes everywhere except the sink was a sin, the detectives had nothing.

“We’ll try again, and I’ll request a deputy keep an eye out for him,” Bel said as they got back into her car. “Maybe something in his records will clue us in as to where he is. It might have a family address where he’s lying low. Or a friend’s.”

“I hope so,” Olivia said, but her hopes went unanswered. An hour later, the women had nothing to show for their work except for a pile of discarded coffee cups and chip bags.

“Wait, I have an idea.” Olivia pushed Bel out of the way and assumed control of her computer, pulling up a new internet tab. “His records were a bust, but perhaps he has a social media account.” She started searching the popular sites, and within five minutes, she found Locks’ profile. “It’s public, thank goodness. We might find something here, which is the reason mine’s private.”

“This is why I don’t have one,” Bel said, and her partner quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “I don’t need people looking at me, learning about me.”

“I’ve never worked homicide before, but after this, I may follow your lead,” Gold said. “Seeing how easy it is to snoop on someone’s life is making me—”

“Wait, go back.” Bel cut her off. Olivia swiped to the previous photo, and Bel tapped the computer screen. “That’s Jane Doe.”

Olivia leaned forward, studying the college girl smiling back at them. “Oh my god, you’re right. She looks different, younger, but that’s definitely her.”

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