Final Act Dianne Yetman (popular ebook readers txt) 📖

to disappear.  On one hand, she was disappointed not to find him there because that meant he had moved on to someone else and she wasn’t able to arrest him.

She looked down at the sidewalk in front of the condo and watched the pedestrians scurrying in the brisk breeze - a young mother in sport gear pushing a bundled up baby in a stroller designed specifically for running parents; two young teenagers plugged into their i-pods, baseball gloves in hands, running across the double boulevard to the park, and a senior citizen, in high spirits, twirling his cane around like a magic wand. Behind the old man, she glimpsed an advancing Golden Retriever, the leash stretching far behind him.  A typical Saturday morning, crowded early morning sidewalks, the majority of the pedestrians making their way to the waterfront Market.

As she watched them pass by, she was surprised at her feeling of envy, surprised she felt anything.  A mere week ago, she had been on her way back from the market carrying her parcels, a bounce in her step.  No trace of a bounce in her now.  Not after her disastrous meeting with Gordon.  She didn’t see it coming.

She was gazing out the window now without really seeing, her thoughts running in circles.  Her vision darkened. The clouds had moved in and covered the morning sun and she saw him.  A black hoodie and scarf hid all except his eyes.  There was something familiar about him, about the way he held himself, but she couldn’t place him.

She discarded the idea of following him, corralling him in the park, pulling out her gold detective shield, and arrest him.  Arrest him for what?  No, it was better to wait until she had something on him.  She’d handle him when the time was right.  She had more pressing concerns – her career, her love life.  She had second thoughts about her long distance relationship with David.  Her passion was cooling while his was moving into overdrive – alluded to the need for stronger commitment the last weekend they had spent together.  And her chief worry, her career.  It was in serious jeopardy; she’d be back walking a beat if she wasn’t careful.

Gordon Ramsey, Chief Inspector, who was soon to retire, Kate the rumoured shoe-in, called her into his office just before the end of the day, at the end of the week, just before her first weekend off in two months.  It wasn’t a pretty. The word had gotten back to him.  The word about her increasing short temper, her inability to get along with her peers, and her blow up with the traffic cop who gave her a parking ticket while she was in pursuit on a purse snatcher.  He wouldn’t listen to reason and she’d lost it – threw him up against the car, muttered some veiled threats.  She had managed to walk away and leave him intact - no need for him to yelp like an injured pup all over the precinct.

As she carried her breakfast dishes to the sink, fighting words flew out of her mouth.   Fighting words would be the death of her, she knew it.  Disciplinary action skated too close.  She replayed Gordon’s speech in her mind as she washed the dishes.

‘Get that temper of yours under control, Kate, I’m warning you.  I had to argue hard with the Chief against a suspension.  You’re damn lucky he bought it.  One more incident, if you so much as spit on the sidewalk, you’ll be scraping it off with your boots as you walk a beat.  Go see one of those psyche gurus; they’re on the 5th floor.  You’re too arrogant, Kate.  The world has to go your way or else.  You know, I had reservations about you from first, coming from a background of privilege, wanting to be a cop.  I should have listened to my gut instincts when you were recommended for promotion to the squad.  I knew you’d be trouble.  It’s your family’s connections that got you where you are, not your arrogance and attitude.  No, don’t open your mouth.  I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.  We’re finished.  Go home and think hard. Think about putting your law degree to work.’  

Kate slammed the cupboard door behind the last of the clean dishes.  He had been cruel, hitting where it hurt.  Yes, her family had connections but that didn’t mean I don’t have what it takes to be a good cop.  And he knows it.  The man hated her from the start.  And her parents had hated her choice of a career.  She fought back and won.  Now, she had to fight again, but would she win this time.  There was something wrong, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but she was losing control. She lashed out at whoever stood in her way.  Had become quick to strike.  She hadn’t been that way when she entered the force.  She had wanted to be a cop, a good one, the best, and she knew the reason why.

Sonya.  She was reason she became a cop.  Beautiful, talented, funny Sonya, her best friend.  They grew up together, lived side by side, shared their secrets, their likes and dislikes, smuggled booze and partied, stole out of their homes late at night and drank in the park, laughing their way back home again.  Shared their dreams.

Sonya didn’t live past 17.  Abducted and murdered, in broad daylight, on a warm summer afternoon on her way home from the park.  A neighbour saw her with an ice cream in her hand two blocks from her home.  Kate had been visiting her grandparents in the country and they had plans to celebrate their birthdays – two days apart – when she got back home.

Sonya was found in the ditch that surrounded the abandoned lot, not far from the downtown bar scene, two days after she had gone missing.  Rape, tortured, strangled, and wrapped in a tarp and discarded