- 7.
The officer stopped at 404, knocked. No
answer. He called someone:
“Run the address for 404, this building. Need
the owner’s number. And 402 too, might need
- it. Text them to me.”
A pause, then:
“Hello, is this David in 404? We had a noise
complaint… You at home? I’m at your door…
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Baby’s sick? I see… False alarm then. I’ll let the caller know. Take care.”
He hung up, made another call, too quiet to hear. Then, footsteps approaching my door.
I didn’t open it. I waited. He knocked. I peeked through the peephole. A uniformed officer, his cap pulled low.
“Someone’s in there. Open up.
I said “One sec,” fumbling with the locks. Then,
the officer spoke:
“It’s okay, don’t bother. Just wanted to let you know the caller from 504 said you were
—
concerned about 404 too. Spoke to the owner, the baby’s sick, they’re at the hospital. The
message was just him venting. Nothing to worry
about.”
The baby was sick? But the crying stopped
<
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right after David’s message. And I’d seen David
at my door after that. He wasn’t at the hospital.
Maybe… maybe he had killed the baby.
And if so, where was Chris?
I was wary. Since the officer didn’t seem to mind me keeping the door closed, I asked:
“Okay, but what about Chris in 402? He went to check on them and… hasn’t come back.”
The officer’s voice was firm:
“He’s home. I just spoke to him. He was half-
asleep, but I confirmed he’s safe. Didn’t want to wake him up completely.”
When did Chris come back? I hadn’t heard a
thing.
The officer continued:
<
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“By the way, I’m the officer for this area.
Anything else, call my cell, not 911. Quicker. I
gave the number to the guy in 504. He’ll pass it
- on. Everything’s fine now.”
“Okay,” I said, but I was suspicious. Why not
call 911?
Then, I looked through the peephole again. The
officer turned to leave. And then…
David’s face pressed against the peephole.
