Paw Enforcement 02 - Paw and Order (17 page)

It wasn't right for someone to take what wasn't theirs, to steal what someone else had worked hard for. Was it too much to ask for people to be fair?

Yet I wondered about the thief's motives, too. Was this an Aladdin situation, where the thief had to steal to eat? Though robbing another person under such desperate circumstances would be understandable though still wrong, I doubted that was the case here. After all, the purse hadn't been snatched on the open streets by a homeless person or hungry runaway. Whoever had taken the purse had paid to get into the venue. The culprit couldn't be totally destitute, right?

Hmm …

As much as I would have liked to catch the thief, I knew that a big part of my job was acting as a deterrent. Visible law enforcement often prevented crimes from taking place, which was undeniably a good thing. Still, it was difficult to accurately measure when deterrent efforts were a success. But nabbing a criminal? That was a clear victory for justice.

I like it when things are clear.

Unfortunately, they rarely were in law enforcement. The penal code might specify in plain language that a certain action was punishable, but in real life the line between right and wrong wasn't always black and white. There were innumerable shades of gray, not to mention ivory and antique white toward one end of the spectrum, with charcoal and ink at the other.

But I supposed that was enough philosophical contemplation, no? It was time to think tactically.

There were several ladies' rooms scattered around the stock show grounds. Would the purse snatcher target the same restroom again? Given that last week's heist had gone off without a hitch, the thief might attempt a repeat performance. On the other hand, the thief might expect law enforcement to keep a closer eye on that particular bathroom and choose to target a victim in one of the other ladies' rooms. The actions of petty criminals could be hard to predict, because they sometimes did stupid, illogical, irrational things. I tried to think like a criminal, to get into their minds, but it was difficult to think illogically and irrationally. I supposed my best strategy was to patrol a route that would take me past all of the ladies' rooms.

How glamorous. I'm on latrine duty.

 

TWENTY

SUCKER!

Brigit

The instant the teenage boy had taken her leash Brigit knew he'd be a sucker. He clutched the leash tightly in his fist and stood stiffly, sending an obvious message that he lacked confidence. Brigit knew when she was in charge.

Dragging him over to the corn dog stand and barking until he bought one for her was a cheap move, but she wasn't above such lowly tricks. Not when there were beef byproducts at stake.

 

TWENTY-ONE

CASHING IN

Robin Hood

While making the rounds with the mail that week, Robin Hood decided to set her sights on Kevin Trang, another young executive. Maybe he'd be interested in a trophy wife, or at least a trophy girlfriend.

The young woman realized some might consider her a gold digger, but she had no problem with that. As far as she was concerned, why would a woman want to work her fingers to the bone when instead she could ride the coattails of a successful man? It only made sense to expend the least amount of effort needed to achieve one's goals. If other people couldn't see that, then they were idiots.

While Evan had been a financial type, Kevin was a techie with roots in the information technology department. But far from being a geeky computer-guy stereotype, Kevin fell into the hip Asian category. Their eyes had met over their drinks at the New Year's Eve party. When Evan had later introduced them, she'd seen a subtle spark in Kevin's eyes. Kevin's date for the evening had been cute enough, but she laughed like a donkey.
Haw-haw-haw!
Surely that would grow old very soon if it hadn't already.

She'd lingered in Kevin's office after dropping off his mail on Wednesday. “How's…”
What is donkey-laugh's name?
“Amanda?”

“It's
Miranda
,” Kevin corrected her. “And as far as I know she's fine. I haven't seen her since New Year's.”

Good to know.

He'd leaned back in his chair and eyed her intently. “How are you and Evan?”

She shook her head and offered a small smile. “Not meant to be. He's still hung up on his ex. Frankly, it gave me an easy out.” She cupped one hand around her mouth and stage-whispered. “I was getting B-O-R-E-D.”

Kevin had laughed, but then his phone buzzed, drawing him back to his work. She'd waggled her fingers at him as she left his office. Unfortunately, he'd been away on a business trip the rest of the week and she hadn't seen him again.

Until she could resume Plan A and take down Kevin with her womanly wiles, she might as well keep moonlighting for herself, right? Still, she wasn't about to risk an arrest for a mere $53. Although she'd made another hundred dollars from the Vicodin she'd sold to that stinky, slimy creep, what were the chances she'd be so lucky again as to snatch a purse with such unexpected treasure? Slim to none.

No, tonight she'd decided to use a different strategy. While her sisters hung out in the dance hall, enjoying the music from the live band as they waited for her to contact them, she positioned herself just outside the midway, where she had a clear view of an ATM but passersby would overlook her among the lights and sounds of the rides, games, and carnival barkers.

She waited.

And she watched.

Ding!
Someone at the midway had managed to bring the rubber sledgehammer down hard enough to ring the bell.
Pop!
A dart had found its way to a balloon.
Beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep!
Young kids sat in the tiny cars that circled around and around, mashing their tiny hands on the horns, turning the little steering wheels as if they could control the cars. They couldn't, of course. The cars were designed to take a set path and didn't go the way the children wanted them to. Kind of like her life. No matter how hard she tried to rise above her upbringing, it seemed as if she were predestined to live a life of frustration and mediocrity. To go around in circles, having no real control, getting nowhere.

But perhaps she was being too melodramatic. She was only twenty-one years old, just starting out in the world, really. She had lots of time to turn things around. But why did it have to be so much work?

A group of teenage girls stepped up to the ATM. Though girls that age were naïve and thus would be easy targets, Robin Hood knew they probably had paltry bank accounts. Sure enough, the girl who used the machine extracted only a single twenty-dollar bill. Besides, the girls wore cheap costume jewelry. Not worth the trouble.

The next person to use the ATM was a man who had his wife and kid in tow. Best Robin Hood could tell he'd withdrawn sixty dollars. Not that she'd paid all that much attention. After all, she was going for female targets here.

Three women in their thirties sauntered up to the ATM now. Their nice dye jobs, chic haircuts, and designer purses spelled money. Diamond engagement rings twinkled from their ring fingers. Two of them used the machine. The first, a tall woman with auburn hair, withdrew several twenties. The second, a petite woman with rich, dark brown curls, an even thicker stack.

Ka-ching.

As they headed out, Robin Hood followed them through the crowd, glancing this way and that, shifting to the left and right so they wouldn't realize they were being tailed. Probably not necessary given the size of tonight's crowd, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

The women headed into the dance hall. Could she be any more lucky? Not only would it be easy to keep an eye on them there, but they were likely to drink a beer or two as they listened to the band. And once those beers processed through their digestive systems and into their bladders, they'd fall right into her lair.

Robin Hood slipped into the dance hall, noting her sisters sat at separate tables near the doors as she'd instructed. She didn't acknowledge them, not wanting to take any risk of people associating the three of them.

She bought a beer and stood along the back wall, sipping from the bottle. A couple of men asked her to dance, but she politely turned them down, telling them she was waiting for her boyfriend.

Sure enough, as she watched, the three women stepped up to the bar, bought beers, and looked around for a free table. They spotted a couple vacating a table near the dance floor and snagged it as the man and woman left.

Fifteen minutes later, when their bottles were empty, one of the women made a second trip to the bar, returning with bottles for all of them. Robin Hood had to fight the urge to raise her fist and chant
Drink! Drink! Drink!
Just because she hadn't gone to college didn't mean she hadn't crashed a frat party or two.

She began to grow impatient when,
finally!,
the two who'd made withdrawals at the ATM got up from the table, leaving their friend behind to save their seats. Robin Hood pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans and texted her sisters.
Follow me.

While she trailed after the women, Heather trailed after her. Crystal, in turn, trailed after Heather,
thump-thump-thumping
along on her rubber-tipped crutches, her right leg crooked up behind her.

Just as expected, the women aimed straight for the restroom. Robin Hood glanced around, noted nobody watching, and pulled a hand-lettered sign and a roll of Scotch tape from her purse. She pulled two strips of tape from the roll.
Zip-zip.
She held the sign to the door and slapped one piece on the top of the sign, the other on the bottom.

She smiled at her clever ploy.

OUT OF SERVICE–SEWAGE BACKUP.

That would keep any potential witnesses out of the bathroom for sure. And if anyone didn't see the sign, Crystal would be stationed outside to point it out and direct them to another facility. Crystal would also be outside to slow the victims down when they exited the restroom. A few extra seconds could mean the difference between getting away and getting caught. It never hurt to take extra precautions.

She held her nearly empty tote close to her body as she entered the bathroom. She'd been a little concerned earlier when the security guard checking bags at the gate had peeked inside and noted that there was little in her bag.

“Just you wait,” Robin Hood had said, offering him an insincere grin. “I'll be leaving here with one of them cute little stuffed pink pigs in my bag.”

The guy had wished her luck.
Ha!
If he only knew. She wasn't about to throw her money away on those games at the midway. Hell, most of them were probably rigged. She had a much better chance of filling her tote with loot from the ladies' room.

There were four stalls in the bathroom, all of them empty. The women aimed for the two in the center. Though a mother stood with her adolescent daughter at the sinks, they were both drying their hands on paper towels and would soon leave. Robin Hood slipped into the end stall next to the tall woman with the auburn hair.

She pulled a pink bandana from her pocket and tied it so that it obscured the bottom half of her face like an old-west bandit. As she watched through the thin vertical space between the stall door and the frame, the woman and the young girl left. Heather sauntered in, taking up a station at the far end of the counter, tying a bandana over the lower half of her face to hide her features, too.

Robin Hood exited the stall and positioned herself just outside the door. Opening her tote, she pulled two black pillowcases and two tubes of lipstick from the inside pocket. She tossed one pillowcase and lipstick to her sister, keeping the other for herself. She pulled a small plastic bag of change from her pocket. She'd washed the coins earlier, scrubbing them with her abrasive kitchen sponge to make sure they'd contain no fingerprints. Given that she had no criminal record, the cops wouldn't be able to match them to a record even if she had left a fingerprint. But why risk ending up in the database?

Flushhhhh.

Looked like the woman with the auburn hair had finished her business. Robin Hood's heart began to thump wildly in her chest.
This is it.
She opened the plastic bag and the end of the pillowcase and held them at the ready.

There was the grinding noise of metal on metal then a click as the woman slid the door latch open. Robin Hood released a barrage of coins that
clink-clink-clinked
to the floor.

As the woman stepped out of the stall, looking down at the coins rolling about, Robin Hood brought the pillowcase down over her head and jerked it back tight around her neck.

“Oh, my God!” The woman shrieked, putting her hands to her neck, struggling to free herself from the darkness.

“Don't move!” Robin Hood hollered, shoving the woman up against the wall and jabbing the tube of lipstick into the woman's side as if it were the barrel of a gun. “Or I'll shoot you dead!”

The woman stopped struggling and instead began to wail. “Take whatever you want! Just please don't hurt me! I have children!”

The other woman rushed out of her stall to meet the same fate at the hands of Heather.

While Heather held the lipsticks to the women's ribs, Robin Hood relieved them of their purses, engagement rings, and wedding rings. It took less than twenty seconds to collect the loot and cram it all into her tote bag.

“Don't move until you've counted to a hundred!” she barked, backing away from the women and jerking her head to indicate Heather should follow her. “We've got people outside who will take you out!”

That latter part was a lie, of course, but she hoped they'd believe it enough to hesitate and give her and Heather time to make a getaway.