Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN THE GREEN JACKET
The name changed everything.
Abigail Ward was no longer a missing former technician. She was now the prime suspect in a deliberate public endangerment case.
But the evidence was still incomplete.
The scarf had her initials.
The children identified her name.
The van contained photographs of the park.
Yet no one could prove that she had released the snakes or attempted to harm the children.
She might have been searching for escaped animals.
She might have been trying to recover them.
Or she might have planted them there.
Detective Ellis spent the night building a timeline. I spent it with Titan in the department kennel, watching him sleep.
His paws twitched as if he were running.
I had seen Titan in dangerous situations before. He had faced armed suspects, burning buildings, and collapsing structures. But that night, I kept thinking about the way he had placed his body between Lily and the leaves.
He hadn’t hesitated.
He hadn’t waited for my command.
He had known.
At dawn, Lieutenant Harris entered the kennel.
“Wildlife found two snakes near the stream,” he said.
“Both alive?”
“One alive. One dead.”
“Cause?”
“Unknown. But toxicology confirmed they were a highly venomous imported species.”
I looked at Titan.
Harris continued. “The department is considering a commendation.”
“That’s good.”
“There’s a condition.”
I turned.
“They want you and Titan removed from public patrol until the investigation is complete.”
I felt anger rise in my chest.
“He saved two children.”
“And the public thinks he attacked one.”
“So we punish him for doing his job?”
“We protect the department while facts are established.”
I didn’t answer.
That afternoon, I returned to Centennial Park with Mara. The scene had been processed, but the rain had washed away much of the evidence. Titan stayed in the vehicle while we examined the maintenance road.
Mara pointed toward the trees.
“The van was parked here for at least three hours.”
“How do you know?”
“Tire impressions. Mud settled around them.”
I crouched near the ground.
There were footprints leading from the road toward the ravine. One set belonged to a large boot. Another was smaller.
Mara photographed both.
“Abigail may not have been alone.”
A faint metallic glint caught my eye beneath a bush.
I reached for it with a gloved hand.
It was a small silver pendant shaped like a bird.
On the back were engraved words:
FOR A.W.—DON’T FORGET WHY YOU STARTED.
Mara studied it.
“Could belong to Abigail.”
“Or someone who wanted us to think it did.”
Titan began barking from the vehicle.
I turned.
He wasn’t barking at us.
He was staring at the far end of the park.
A woman stood beneath a streetlamp.
Green jacket.
Dark hair.
Red scarf.
Abigail Ward.
The moment she saw us, she ran.
Mara drew her weapon.
“Police! Stop!”
Abigail disappeared behind the restroom building.
I released Titan from the vehicle.
“Track.”
He ran ahead, nose down.
We followed through the empty park. Abigail crossed a footbridge, climbed over a fence, and entered an alley behind a row of closed shops.
Titan found her first.
He cornered her beside a brick wall but did not bite. He stood between her and the exit, barking.
Abigail raised both hands.
“Call him off!”
I arrived seconds later.
“Get on your knees.”
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“Turn around.”
“They’re going to kill the children.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the street.
A black sedan waited at the far end of the alley.
Its engine was running.
Abigail’s face went white.
“They found me.”
The sedan accelerated toward us.
Titan lunged forward, barking.
The car swerved, smashed through a stack of garbage bins, and disappeared onto the main road.
Abigail turned to me.
“I didn’t release those snakes,” she whispered.
“Then tell me who did.”
She looked at the silver pendant in my hand.
“That belonged to my brother.”
“What happened to him?”
May you like
Her eyes filled with tears.
“He died in the lab accident.”
