The Twenty-seventh Precinct ….
Ray drove the GTO, through traffic easily, the muscle car thrumming as it idled at stop lights. He watched Inspector Thatcher in the rear view mirror. She seemed distracted, and by something more than Fraser. The Mountie seemed tense as well. Even Diefenbaker was quiet.
"So, what's the deal with this missing girl, her mother is a real piece of work." Ray began. They were still a good way off from the precinct.
"In all fairness, Ray, you don't know Ms. Lawrence." Fraser said, turning to his friend.
"Ah, after meeting that woman, I can see why the kid ran." Ray waved his friend's gentle reproof away.
"Detective, do you always show such prejudice in your assessment of people you don't know?" Inspector Thatcher's eyes narrowed as she leaned forward from the back seat.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm just statin' my opinion of the woman." Ray defended.
"The precinct." Fraser interjected, glad to see the bland building housing the Twenty-seventh's finest.
Attempted Arrest …
Cara walked into the middle of the mess known as the bull pen. There were pink haired punk rockers with facial piercings, a jolly drunk trying to sing 'In the Pines', an old, bluegrass song, and a few women of the streets. She'd never seen such a place in her few, short years. She felt panic rise, making her tremble.
"I have to use the bathroom." The teen whined, squirming uncomfortably.
"It'll have to wait." The foot patrolman said off handed.
"When a girl says she's got to go, you'd better let her. It's that time of my cycle. If you don't let me go I'll sue." She walked farther in, holding her stomach. No male teacher Cara had ever encountered had ever stopped her or her classmates from going to the can when they pulled that card. As long as they didn't use it too often it worked like a charm.
"Alright, but if you aren't out in five minutes someone's coming in after you, regardless." The patrolman stopped by the nearest ladies room. Cara gave him her most innocent smile and went inside.
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"I've got a few reports here, two of them sound like they may be our missing girl." Ray walked through the precinct easily, stepping this way and that to avoid suspects and other officers.
"How many runaways could there be that fit Cara Lawrence's description?" Meg asked.
"Five foot, three inches, brunette, brown eyes, about a million. That could describe you, Inspector, Frannie, or the clerk in personnel." Ray explained moving toward his desk through the foot traffic.
"Constable Fraser, I'll be just a moment, don't start without me." Meg sounded detached, but didn't feel that way. Dief sat at Fraser's feet, looking from his human to the female as they talked.
"Are you alright, Inspector?" Fraser asked quietly, letting Ray go on ahead, out of ear shot.
"As well as can be expected. I'll be okay." She gave him a shaky smile. The Mountie returned her smile before Meg pulled away.
"Hey, Frase, you comin' or what?" The energetic detective called loudly from his desk. Ben nodded, excusing himself through the bull pen. Dief wove his way through to his usual spot near the desk.
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Meg pushed the ladies room door open and went inside past a uniformed officer holding a young man by the coat sleeve. The three stall facility was painted a dull, battleship gray up to the waist then a paler gray from there to the ceiling. It made the lady Mountie appreciate her nicely appointed, consulate restroom.
Disgusted, Meg used her elbow to open the middle stall and go inside. She heard the stall beside her open and someone walk out.
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Cara walked into the bathroom, her mind frantic for a plan to escape. Her fingerprints would eventually lead the police to her mom. The academy insisted that each student be fingerprinted when they enrolled as part of a safe child identification program. Most students thought it was a tyrannical thing to do, but what could they say?
Cara looked in the mirror, taking stock of what she had to work with. The patrolman hadn't taken her backpack before she went into the restroom. It had all her clothes inside.
"I bet that dolt wouldn't recognize me if I changed my appearance." Cara thought to herself. "This hair has to go." She knew that it would be easier to take care of and keep clean if it wasn't down in the middle of her back. Quickly, the teen pulled out the pocket knife her grandmother had given her. Cara had hidden it in the lining of her purse to get it through customs. The single bladed knife was pink with a metal fan design in the hilt. Cara began to shear off long locks of hair. Fourteen inches of hair landed in the restroom sink as the teen shaped it into a rough pixie cut. It felt like a wet, wool toboggan had been lifted off her head.
"I should have done that a long time ago." It made Cara look older and edgier. "Now to change these clothes." She went into the stall against the wall and pulled out her last maroon, pleated skirt and put it on. Then she turned her backpack around to her front and pulled a sweatshirt over it. With the haircut and body change Cara felt satisfied that her own mother wouldn't recognize her.
Hearing the door open, the teen sat very still and waited until she heard the stall door beside her open and close. The woman in the next stall moved around a moment then sat down. Cara saw her opportunity and walked out. The patrolman waiting outside didn't even blink when she walked past him and down the hall. After she made it out of the building, the teen began to walk swiftly, knowing there would be chaos in the precinct as soon as the cops checked the restroom.
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Meg blew her nose before washing her hands. Using the paper towel she'd dried her hands on, the Mountie opened the door and stepped outside.
"Hey, Ma'am, could I ask a favor, could you step back inside and check to see if there's anyone in there for me?" The uniformed cop asked, a hang dog expression. Meg eyed him warily.
"Just a moment." She went back inside and checked the stalls, nothing. Then she opened the door, nothing again. The only window had security bars over it. She lifted a few strands of dark, long hair that had clung to the garbage can's lid.
"It's empty, Officer, it appears you've lost your suspect." Meg informed him, holding up the strands she'd found. The patrolman swore softly.
"That girl must have had a set of clothes in her bag." He lifted off his uniform hat and scratched his head.
"And she's somehow cut her hair to disguise her appearance." Meg added dryly.
"Ha, now you got to let me go." The young man the officer had hold of laughed, his grimy face leaning into the cops.
"I don't have to do squat, keep quiet and sit down." The patrolman pulled out his radio and began reporting to his dispatcher.
"Inspector Thatcher, what's the matter?" Fraser's concerned voice broke through just as Meg was about to leave the patrolman to sort things out for himself.
"This officer has let a suspect escape custody." Meg's voice dripped with disapproval.
"Yeah, the chick looked like she coulda been your sister too." The young thief jutted his chin towards Meg.
"Cara!" Both Canadians said in unison, eyes wide.
"Yeah, that's what she told the pig here her name was." The thief shrugged, his coat's hood off center.
"We're law enforcement as well, young man." Meg informed him, affronted at his disrespect.
"Yeah, where from, Red?" The thief turned his attention to Fraser.
"The Royal Canadian Mounted Police." The Mountie answered.
"Ha! So's that make you Canadian bacon?" the young man laughed at his own joke. Neither Canadian laughed, staring at him blankly.
"Jeez, grow a funny bone already." The thief shrugged.
"Fraser, Cara's still in the vicinity. She's cut her hair as well." Meg turned to her subordinate, her soulful eyes silently begging him to help her.
"You inform Ray and I'll go after her." Fraser pulled his Stetson on and took off towards the front door, Dief in tow.
"Where'd Fraser go?" Ray walked up to the Inspector, puzzled by his unofficial partner's behavior.
"Cara Lawrence was brought in to the precinct, somehow she's eluded this officer here." Meg hitched her thumb toward the uniformed cop still beside her.
"Are all you Canadians ninja like that 'er somethin'?" Ray asked, his mind already leaping ahead to the next step.
"I'll tell Welsh." The detective volunteered.
The Search is On ….
Out on the street a throng of people moved like ants in a glass farm. The majority of them were far taller than Cara's five foot three. There would be almost no tracking her. Dief sniffed around the sidewalk, what he smelled only he knew. Fraser returned to the precinct.
"I need something of Cara's for Diefenbaker to get the scent." Fraser spoke to Meg.
"A strand of her hair?" The Inspector asked. She and Fraser pushed the bathroom door open and Meg took two paper towels and removed the trash can lid in the corner of the small room. Carefully, Fraser removed a strand of the dark locks and left the bathroom.
"Hey, buddy, wrong can." A chubby meter maid called as Fraser dashed out the door.
"Excuse me, but you can't use this restroom, it's currently a crime scene." Meg informed the meter maid as she opened the door to the lady Mountie holding the trash can lid between her hands.
"Alright, clear out." Welsh's voice boomed over the din of the bull pen beyond.
"Inspector Thatcher, will you please explain what's going on here?" Welsh asked as he peered in the ladies room door. Meg had a sense of de ja vu, only it was from Fraser's perspective.
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Fraser held out the strand of hair for Dief to sniff when they got out of the precinct's doors. The half wolf took a long whiff of the dark locks and began to sniff the sidewalk, taking off down the street. Fraser scanned the crowd as he followed Dief's lead. He prayed the teen hadn't gotten into a cab or bus. The wolf wouldn't be able to detect her scent. Ben also prayed that for Meg's sake he could find Cara quickly. In the back of his mind he knew that she couldn't handle it if something happened to her daughter, especially since she'd never gotten to tell her the truth.
"Good, Dief, good." Fraser bent low to see what the wolf had found. An errant strand of hair hung from a shoulder height limb of one of the city's many trees planted along down town. The wolf looked up then took to the scent again. He lost the scent half a block away, at a pizza place. The scent of cooking food had overwhelmed the wolf's senses. He sat down and looked up at Fraser, a whine in his throat.
"Good job, Dief." Fraser opened the door to the pizza shop and went in, pulling out a copy of Cara's picture from his Stetson. He surveyed the patrons of the shot before going to the counter.
"Excuse me, Sir, have you seen this girl, she may have recently cut her hair very short." Fraser explained to the young man manning the register.
"No, not today, but I've seen her before, a few days ago." His name tag said 'Angelo'. "She in some kind of trouble?" He asked, surprised.
"She's runaway while on a school field trip from Winnipeg." Fraser answered before he turned around and asked the rest of the shop if they'd seen the girl. All he was met with was a lot of blank stares.
"Thank you kindly." The Mountie nodded to Angelo and took off out the door. Dief had nosed around and picked up the scent again. He took the lead, trotting briskly ahead of Fraser. When he came to a train platform a little while later he'd lost Cara's scent. Reluctantly, Fraser and Dief walked back to the twenty-seventh precinct.
"Did you find her?" Meg asked, hoping Cara was following him.
"No, I'm afraid not. Dief tracked her scent to one of the train platforms." Fraser hated to tell her.
"I'm sure you did your best, Constable Fraser." Meg had to swallow to keep from crying.
"But my best wasn't enough." Ben thought to himself as he held his Stetson in his hands.
"Let's take her picture to the train platform, maybe someone saw where she got off at." Ray suggested.
"That would be a good idea, Ray, thank you." Fraser turned to his friend, his mask slipping, letting his concern show. Ray attributed it to Cara's hijinks.
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