Shelter from the Storm
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Chapter 40 ~ Misplaced
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Ranger
A meeting with TPD and DEA on a warmer than normal April day in Trenton NJ. One of the local detectives was droning on, "...and there will be no utilization of confidential informants unless every applicable form is filled out in triplicate and posted on our website..."
Doesn't sound very confidential to me, came to mind immediately.
One of the undercover DEA agents mumbled sarcastically, "I want a lawyer..."
''Yeah and a sandwich," added his partner. ''All this bullshit is making me hungry."
TPD cops glared. DEA guys sulked. I reached for the Advil I keep stashed in my cargo pocket and started to say maybe we should take a break. But my intentions, while good, were rudely interrupted.
Bang Bang Bang!
A not at all discreet knock on the conference room door. It then immediately swung open and my daughter Zoë stormed in.
Everyone smiled. Except me.
I frowned a little and said, "Zoë..." meaning to remonstrate about the intrusion, but she steamrolled on by me.
''Daddydaddydaddy! Have you seen Killer's new sweater?"
I cringed from the memory of the poor creature's new...garment and carefully admitted, ''Yes."
''Where?" Stomp of foot.
"What do you mean, where? You showed it to me the other day. And you are interrupting a meeting, Zoë. You're being very rude."
"Ooooh. I am sorry, daddy. Hi, misters!" Little finger wave. "But Killer's new sweater is missing! I do NOT think he likes it and I believe he has stolen it and hidden it!"
''Well..." Who can blame him? Really.
''Mommy says you can always find anything, daddy. So where is it?''
I said to our now goggle-eyed audience, ''Excuse us for a moment." I got up and took Zoë by the hand, intending to take her out of the room. She dug in her heels and started to cry.
All the hardass cops and feds went, ''Aaaw. Poor baby..."
Zoë brandished her pink iPhone and sobbed, ''I want to update my Facebook status, daddy. Right now! I have many many bubbles ready to blow, Britta and me made a whole tub of bubble gunk! And I want to take a picture of Killer and the bubbles and and and...sob."
''Baby, it is way too warm to make Killer wear a sweater," I told her. I opened the conference room door and tried to nudge her out of the room, but to no avail.
Then, clickety click click. The little 'man' in question appeared, his tiny nails ticking on the tile corridor.
''Mmmumphf!'' he barked. Then he ran, well, waddled up to me and growled. I let go of my daughter's hand. She saw her dog, stopped crying and yelled, "Killy! Where is your new sweater? It is so pretty, you know you look so cute in pink!"
Muffled laughter behind me. Oh fer chrissakes. How badass can I possibly look after this fiasco. Zoë plots very well for a five year old, and I figured I'd have to concede defeat for now. If I scold the kid they'll think I'm an abusive asshole, if I let her act like this they'll think I'm a pushover.
Ranger Manoso, bested by a child. (Yeah, again! Can we not go there? Please?)
In my head I could hear Stephanie laughing and saying, Man up, Manoso, you're the parent.
Good advice. I hoped.
I bent down and took the pink iPhone from Zoë's hand. I said sternly, "No pictures! No Facebook."
''Wah! wah!''
"No tantrums! And no more outfits for Killer, he looks like an idiot."
The dog met my eyes and I swear his sad little pug face grinned. Yay!
And he waddled briskly off down the hall, whirlwind Zoë on his heels.
Silence.
Then the pink phone played a stupid kiddie song. I had to answer a pink phone!
Britta the nanny's Swedish accent came from the tiny speaker."I haf found ze zveater, Zoë. Come, bubbles are waiting!"
I was tempted to yell, ''You're fired!" But no. I very calmly put the pink phone in my pocket with the Advil and sat back down. "Where were we, gentlemen?"
No one had the balls to laugh.
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Killer's sweater, on YouTube: link will be in my profile here.
Be sure to look, it ll make you laugh!
the end, series tbc
Thanks for reviewing!
a/n Part 3 of Snow Day is up on my blog/ website. Link is also in my profile...enjoy.