Fisher (Prince of Tigers, #3) - Kathi S. Barton Page 0,53

here next to me has painted.” The kid snorted. Fisher put the doll back in the bag and handed it to the older man. “He alive?”

“Yes. He was with his grandma, who took him out of his crib earlier this morning and wandered off with him. She has been living with her son and his family since it was apparent that she wasn’t able to care for herself.” The older cop asked him where he was now. The grandma wasn’t missing. “No. I’d say she made her way back to the house on her own but had forgotten where she stashed the little boy. She’s hidden him away from the Germans. You’ll find that she was a child during the holocaust and still remembers hiding from them.”

Nodding, he thanked him for his help. Fisher looked at the younger man, who was saying she should have been put in a place where she was safe. Behind locked doors, so she’d not be wasting their time with shit like this, not able to roam around like everyone else. He told Fisher that anyone over the age of seventy should have monitors put in their heads so they could be tracked easier too.

Fisher shook his head and looked at the boy. “You have no idea what that woman, as a child, went through trying to survive what was done to her. The things that she had to do to survive. How she found food when there wasn’t anything around.” Fisher stood up. “You know shit about human nature. That woman had only one thought in her head about keeping her grandson safe, and she did it. Now, if you don’t mind getting your fucking ass out of my house, I’d be grateful.”

“Sheesh, who shit in your oatmeal?” Fisher took a step toward the kid, and he put his hand on the gun. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you. I’m not some snot-nosed kid to be fucking with, mister.”

Sitting back at his desk, Fisher picked up his phone and called the station house where these two were from. It was nothing for him to ask to speak to the commanding officer of the place by name. Fisher, after all, had been around a very long time.

After telling him how he’d been spoken to and what the younger man had said to him, the CO, Butch Ardell, said he’d be there in ten minutes. Cory Wayne, the younger cop, was told to sit still and to not leave before his boss arrived. Officer Sherman left to go and get the little boy.

“You didn’t have to call my boss, you know. If you didn’t like what I was saying, then you should have said something.” Fisher told him he had done something. He’d called for his boss. “I’m going to get into trouble over this. I hope you’re happy about that.”

“Actually, I’m thrilled to death knowing that. It would please me even more if you were to lose your job. I can’t imagine the things you might have said to the parents of this boy or his grandma.” Cory said he was vocal when he saw something wrong. “Yes, but in this case, you couldn’t have been more wrong about what happened. Leaping to judgments without all the information is not the way to be a good cop. As I said, I hope you lose your job.”

When Butch arrived, he asked to speak to Cory alone. Leaving them in his office, Fisher went to find his wife and dad. Right at that moment, he needed to be around good people, and nothing like the one he’d just left. When Cory and Butch left, Cory was in cuffs and his gun, Fisher was told, was in his office. The stupid kid had pulled his gun on his CO. What a strange world they lived in, Fisher thought.

Hugging his dad first, he sat down next to Piper while she made decisions on what sort of boxes they needed to make their prison care packages. Dad was on the phone, talking to someone about how to get the boxes inspected before they were sent in. This was one of the better projects he was going to get to be a part of. He’d bet that before it was all done, his entire family would be looking into a way to help out.

Chapter 9

Kylan woke from a deep sleep. While he didn’t know what was going on, he knew someone needed him, or what he could do for them.