Page 71 of The Evening Wolves

Somewhere distant in the facility, metal flexed and boomed, the sound echoing down the concrete corridor. Braxton rolled his shoulder once—the bad one, Emery thought.

“Mr. Brey called a little before five.”

“You know Brey?” Emery asked. “The way you said that, it sounds like you recognized his name.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a small town. Everybody knows him.”

“All right,” John said. “What did he say?”

“He wanted an officer to come out right away.”

“Did he say why?”

“He said he thought he saw a prowler.” Braxton frowned. “I asked him what he’d seen, you know, details, but he got agitated and started demanding I send someone over.”

“And?”

“And I sent Bonilla to check it out.”

“Did Brey stay on the line?”

“No, he said he wasn’t going to wait on the phone, then he disconnected.”

Emery frowned. “Is that unusual?”

“I don’t know. Not necessarily, I guess.”

“But?”

Braxton reached for his coffee again, but this time, he didn’t drink. “I don’t know,” he said again. “He sounded scared. I told him to stay on the call until an officer showed up, but he didn’t want to. So maybe it was a little weird, yeah.”

“What happened when Bonilla showed up?” John asked.

“Oh, she didn’t. She had just gotten out of a domestic, and the chief got on the air and said he’d handle it.”

“Cassidy?” Emery said.

Braxton nodded.

“Why would he do that?” John asked.

“Well, you know how it is. It’s a small town, Brey’s a big deal, the chief likes the personal touch. Plus like I said, Bonilla was just getting out of a domestic. The chief must have been in the area and figured he’d pick up the call.”

Emery grimaced and saw some of the same frustration on John’s face. What Braxton was describing wasn’t unheard of—in Wahredua, for example, when Cravens had been chief, she’d been known to take a call if she wanted to make a point or if she thought it needed special handling. And Wahredua was bigger than Auburn by a fair margin, which meant in a town this size, with an even smaller force, it might even be common for the chief to pitch in when the other officers were unavailable or were getting run off their feet. None of that changed the fact, though, that Brey had called 911 for help, Cassidy had jumped in to take the call, and now Brey was dead.

“But he didn’t say why?” Emery asked. “He didn’t explain why he was taking it?”

Braxton gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling. “Well, no. But does your chief always explain everything he does?”

John must have seen something on Emery’s face because he rolled his eyes. “No,” he said, “I guess he doesn’t. Did Cassidy radio back after he checked out the property?”

“Sure. He told me to close it; false alarm.”

Emery thought he could hear, far off, the water in the harbor: the open-and-close of those gray shark’s teeth.

“What?” Braxton asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” John said. “That’s what we needed to know. You didn’t hear from Mr. Brey again last night?”

---