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“Oh, that’s my vet,” the doctor said. “Follow me.” She left the front door and headed toward the kitchen. The officers followed. “She makes house calls. Only in LA, right? My dog got out and fought the coyotes before I got there to chase them away.”
The officers followed her past the study and then past the basement door. They stepped into the kitchen, and Bandit barked as the doctor hit the intercom. “Jeanine?” she said.
“Dr. Parks? Is Bandit okay?”
“I’m buzzing you in. The police are here. There were coyotes. Don’t be alarmed.”
“Okay,” she chirped. “See you shortly.”
Dr. Parks buzzed the gate open and turned to look at Steven’s gun. She’d put it on the counter under the paperwork.
“That’s the gun I used,” she said. “It’s empty now. And there’s the paperwork. What do I do with the dead coyote?”
“Animal Control,” McKay said, “and we’d like to see it. And perform a house check.”
This again? What even was that? The doctor’s heart sank. Why did they want to check her house? Did this have something to do with her files? With Morse and Hernandez?
“This was perfectly legal, right? To shoot a coyote in my own yard?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the second officer said. His pin read MOY. “Coyotes have the same rights as rats. Which is basically none.”
“Phew.”
“The county and state laws differ a little, but you can shoot them if they’re aggressive and posing a threat.”
The doctor put her hand on her heart. “All right, great. And yes, feel free to look around. There’s nothing to see. I live here alone.”
“No one else lives here?” McKay said.
“Not right now. My son’s away at school,” she lied. “My husband’s away on a business trip.” The doorbell rang. “That’s my vet. Excuse me, please.” And she left them to let Jeanine inside.
A minute later, and back in the kitchen, Jeanine crossed to Bandit as Dr. Parks led the police outside, but stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“He’s still bleeding,” she said to Jeanine, staring down at the pretzel nuggets that scattered her floor. What the hell? She reached down and picked one up. This was nothing she’d ever buy, these things. Where did they come from? Distracted, she said, “We’re headed out back… to, um… to see the coyote.” She suddenly felt light-headed. Where had all this food garbage come from? What the hell was going on? What were these called?
“You’re not giving Bandit Combos, are you?” Jeanine said. “These are disgusting. They’ll make him sick. They’re full of gluten.”
“No,” said Dr. Parks absently. “Masha must’ve bought them.”
“And doctor?” said Moy, as he looked around the kitchen. “You know your alarm is off its charge?”
The doctor turned and looked at Moy. Then she looked at the alarm panel on the kitchen counter. Indeed, the transformer sat unplugged.
“Did you mean to unplug it?”
“No,” she said, and suddenly felt uncertain and breathless. “No, I didn’t. Maybe—maybe my housekeeper… Maybe she knocked it out by… mistake? She was here earlier… this afternoon.”
CHAPTER 22
ON THE GARDEN path, the doctor led the officers through the backyard to the pool. They wielded Stinger tactical flashlights that lit up the dark wherever they pointed. The poor coyote lay dead in the grass.
“Small guy,” said Moy.
“There were six altogether,” the doctor said. “They ran off up there.” She pointed up the hill, and Moy aimed his flashlight into the grove.
“There’s a wood that leads to a ravine back there and only a wall. Stone. Six feet. They hop right over.”
“They’re jumpers,” said McKay. “We’ll give you the number for Animal Control. They’ll come get him and send us the bullets.”
