The Half-awake Accomplice

In the end, it would be those things done when she first crawled out of bed. The ones that received little thought because her brain had not yet engaged. The simple chores—feeding the cat, and making a pot of coffee to kick start lazy neurons. She could do them with her eyes closed and often did. Those things that she would not even remember having done, would threaten to be her undoing.

Sunday morning held the promise of peace and quiet. Many citizens remained tucked under the covers, not likely to see the streets until noon. No garbage trucks roared behind the apartment building beating heavy dumpsters in a kind of symbolic gesture of power. Yes, the morning promised peace and quiet.

Annie fed the cat and pulled open the utensil drawer to find the scoop for measuring coffee. Half asleep, she pulled a little too hard and the drawer crashed to the floor scattering various pieces of cutlery around the kitchen. She grumbled as she cleaned up the mess and made her coffee. In a short time, she poured a cup, took it to the living room, and climbed into her favorite reading chair. She watched the rear end of her cat who had finished breakfast, march out the kitty door without even a 'thank you very much'. "I'd like to be a cat," she sighed, reaching for the mystery she'd been reading.

An hour later, someone pounded on the door and she jumped two feet. "Who is it?" She yelled through the thick wood. She never could identify anyone in the stupid little peephole.

"It's the police. We'd like to talk to you."

"The police?" Her brain kicked into high gear. "What do the police want? Oh my god, something happened to Tucker. No, that's stupid. They wouldn't send the police for a cat accident."

"Open the door, please." A different, but equally gruff voice yelled.

She unlocked the deadbolt and the lock and pulled open the door as far as the chain allowed. "What is it? What do you want?"

"I'm Officer Ferriday and this is Officer Brown. Do you mind if we come in?"

She looked at the identification badges on their chest and then at the tee shirt she wore. "Let me put on my robe and I'll be right back." She pushed the door to close it, but someone shoved a foot in the bottom.

"Go ahead and get your robe. We'll wait right here."

What was that about? Annie ran to the bedroom and grabbed her robe, slipping into it as she returned to the door. "Please remove your foot so I can unhook the chain." The shoe disappeared and she let them in. "What is it, officers?"

"Where have you been for the last hour?" asked the one who called himself Ferriday. Annie thought he looked familiar but she was no less surprised at his question.

"Right here, reading a book."

"Can you prove it?"

She stared at him. "What do you mean, can I prove it. Of course, I can't prove it. I was here alone, reading. My cat wasn't even here to testify."

"If your cat were here, would he be able to testify?" Officer Brown asked.

"She. No, my cat would not be able to testify. I meant it as a joke. Could you please tell me what this is about?" The solemn faces of the two officers frightened her.

"Do you know the dog next door?" She nodded. "Do you have a grudge against him?"

The dog Ferriday referred too was a large, vicious animal, which her neighbor kept tethered to the front porch. It scared the hell out of Annie every time she walked out the front door. "I don't like that it snaps at me all the time and stretches the chain until it looks like it'll break. What about the dog next door?"

"That's my dog," Ferriday told her. "My wife and I live next door and she told me she's seen you yelling at Brutus. Is that true?"

That's why he looks familiar. "I've told Brutus to shut up on occasion. I wouldn't say I yelled at him, and I certainly wouldn't say I held a grudge against him. Officer, why would two policemen come to my door to accuse me of yelling at a dog?"

"Someone killed him about a half hour ago. My wife put him out only a few minutes before that and when she returned with a bowl of water, found him lying on the ground with a steak knife in his chest. It looks like they buried the knife blade up, and the dog leapt as far as his chain could reach and fell on it."

Annie never wanted to see an animal hurt, but Brutus was a monster. She'd seen little children run away, terrified of the frightening beast because his chain reached to within a few inches of the sidewalk. He terrorized all the neighborhood cats and sent more than one individual flying off their bicycle as they went over the curb to escape. "I'm very sorry, Officer Ferriday, but I had nothing to do with Brutus' death."

Hours later Annie thought about her visitors. If it hadn't been Ferriday's dog, she wouldn't have been talking to the police at all. She was curious as to who did the dog in, but not really surprised. "Hi, there, Tucker." The feline swaggered in through the kitty door. "Hey, I'm cooking myself a filet. I'll bet you'd like a little piece. Let's go see if it's ready."

Annie pulled the piece of meat from the broiler and set it on the cutting board. She dug around in the utensils to find a knife. "Hey, Tucker. Where did that steak knife go?"