Hot Potato

24. Police

"You should dress in your new suit, Gigi. That would give you more respect and credibility."

"Yeah, reverse discrimination – even among those trained to be neutral."

"Sad but true."

I removed the tags from the blouse, and Dunc held it for me to put it on. Then while I buttoned it, he removed the ones from the skirt and unzipped it, asking, "Fresh underwear? Where do you keep it?"

"In that drawer." I pointed. "But I'll go without. I wear it only when there's a chance I'll see someone hot and get turned on."

"Oh! But you had panties on today."

"You had intrigued me yesterday, and I didn't want to risk wetting my jeans."

"Fuck! Oh, God! What do I do with this?"

I turned to see Buddy rising toward horizontal. "Yeah, that'll be a problem. Let's find something to divert your thoughts."

"And keep them diverted until we're back here." He paused for a while, then said, "The police will need to know where to find him. Serve him with a summons and arrest him. Did he give you a forwarding address for his mail?"

I shook my head as I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up. "No, but he never received any here. Everything electronic – same as I do."

"Hmmm. We need a way they can track him down. Have you any details from his ID?"

"Like what?"

"Did he share the expenses? Maybe a credit card number. Image of a returned cheque."

"He paid me with cash, so no trace but his name."

"Phone number? The police can request access to his details."

"He changed it. Didn't work when I called to confirm – whoa! That's it."

"What?"

"Last week, a cartage guy came to pick up his stuff, and I wanted proof that he had Garth's authorisation. Took photos of the work order, or whatever it's called. Evidence in case he tried to accuse me of throwing his stuff out. Delivery address was on it."

"Great! And probably his new cell number. Photos still in your phone?"

"Yeah, and synced to my MacBook."

By this time, Buddy had become bored and went back to sleep. While Dunc finished dressing, I went to the bathroom to fluff my hair with the dryer and brush it into place. Then back in the bedroom, I picked up the phone and took my wallet and keys from the hoodie pouch. "Hmmm! These aren't pockets, just decorative flaps. Where do businesswomen keep phones and stuff?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, most of these suits are close-fitting, so bulging pockets would distract. They probably put them in their clutch or briefcase."

"I've a padded computer slip case. Would that work?"

"Indeed! Another thing they would use."

Ten minutes later, and three blocks down the street, we arrived in the reception lobby of Vancouver Police Headquarters. Duncan outlined the situation to an officer behind the counter, and I added, "About three weeks ago, three of your colleagues responded to my 9-1-1 domestic violence call about this same person. Leading them was Constable Singh, so she'd be familiar with the situation."

"We have many Singhs on the force. The name is like Smith or Wong. But that would have been the Domestic Violence Unit, and they won't be involved in this case. I've buzzed for someone from the Counter-Exploitation Unit to come and assist you."