Chapter 4 - THE PARK CLOSES
Centennial Park was evacuated within twenty minutes.
Police tape surrounded the playground.
Parents carried crying children to their cars.
Animal control officers searched beneath benches, trash cans, shrubs, and drainage pipes.
The story exploded across Seattle.
But the headline wasn’t about a loose venomous snake.
It was about Titan.
POLICE K9 ATTACKS 7-YEAR-OLD.
I sat in a hospital chair staring at the television until I wanted to smash it.
A reporter stood outside the park.
“Witnesses say the dog appeared to break free from its handler before tackling the young girl…”
Appeared?
I turned it off.
A nurse walked out.
I jumped up.
“Titan?”
“He’s received antivenom.”
“Is he stable?”
“Not yet.”
Those two words hollowed me out.
“The venom is affecting him quickly. We’re watching his airway.”
“Can I see him?”
“For one minute.”
Titan looked smaller on the hospital table.
Tubes.
Monitors.
IV lines.
The swelling around his face had worsened.
I touched his paw.
“Hey.”
His eyes opened slightly.
“You really screwed up my Sunday.”
His tail barely moved.
I laughed once.
Then I started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Titan blinked.
“I should’ve trusted you.”
That hurt the most.
He had known.
I hadn’t.
When he refused my command, my first thought had been that he had failed.
He hadn’t failed.
I had.
“You knew something I didn’t.”
I lowered my forehead against his paw.
“If you get through this, I swear I’ll never doubt you again.”
A nurse touched my shoulder.
“Officer.”
I stepped away.
My phone rang again.
Lieutenant Harris.
“We’ve got another problem.”
“What now?”
“Animal control confirmed the snake species.”
“Western diamondback.”
“Right.”
“That’s not native.”
“Not even close.”
“So somebody brought it here.”
“Exactly.”
I looked through the glass at Titan.
“Accident?”
“Maybe.”
“Or?”
“We found security footage.”
I straightened.
“Of what?”
“A dark SUV entered the maintenance road at 5:12 this morning. Driver stopped near the tree line.”
“What did he do?”
“Carried a plastic container into the woods.”
My jaw tightened.
“How long was he there?”
“Four minutes.”
“And then?”
“He drove away without it.”
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
“License plate?”
“Obscured.”
“Face?”
“Mostly covered.”
“Then what do we have?”
Harris went quiet.
“One thing.”
“What?”
“The container we recovered has a shipping label.”
I waited.
“Northwest Exotic Wildlife Supply.”
I knew the name.
Everybody in our unit did.
Three weeks earlier, narcotics detectives had found something disturbing during a raid connected to that company.
Illegal animal trafficking.
Venomous reptiles.
And one suspect who had disappeared before police arrived.
May you like
Harris lowered his voice.
“Mercer, we think the man who dumped those snakes knew exactly what he was doing.”
