Chapter Text
It really didn’t matter what state a state cop worked for, troopers were all the same guy. They might as well be clones even if they looked a little different. This one had a haircut so short it looked like a skin job that was growing out and grooves in the side of his head where the arms of his sunglasses had staked their claim over the years. His uniform had creases so sharp a mannequin would come to life just to be jealous. He glanced over at the three out of staters as the report came back over his radio.
Bellamy sat on the middle of the bench in the rest area adjacent to the highway patrol station with Echo and Murphy on either side of him. Of the three of them he’d had the fewest physical threats to his life in the last 24 hours, but he was taking the threat to his family the hardest.
The statie walked back to them and eyed Bellamy. “Take the dog for a walk.”
“They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that. Your dog just looks ready to go and I don’t want to watch.”
Bellamy picked up the end of the rope they’d fashioned into a harness and walked towards the soda machines.
The cop called after him, “The dog area is to your left. They’ve got some poop bags over there. Clean up any mess he makes.”
Bellamy nodded and went to the area he now saw was marked with signs.
The cop asked, “He always such a ball of anxiety?”
“I’ve got a head wound and Echo got tossed in a basement. Mother Hen is taking it hard. Likes to protect the chicks.”
The officer glanced between the two of them then over at Bellamy in the distance. He didn’t accept that Mother Hen was the right description of Bellamy’s relationship with Echo and Murphy but wasn’t sure how to probe for details. Neither of them volunteered clarity.
Curiosity was a killer, and the officer wanted them talking. He said, “The dog isn’t chipped or registered. Far as we could find out he’s never been to a vet. He hasn’t been captured by the pound either, so no one has the authority to give him to you or take him from you. So who’s is he?”
Echo asked, “He’s ours? Just like that?”
“If you say he’s yours then he’s yours.”
Murphy glanced over at where Bellamy was walking Fido. “He’s ours.”
The cop knew they weren’t siblings and roommates wouldn't own a dog together. Reluctantly the officer accepted that this was as much information on the which two of the three were a couple that he was likely to get.
“They found the body in the basement just where you said it would be. Cage owns the house and the neighbor confirmed he was there last night. CSI is checking the crime scene, but they said he’s already started complaining about diamonds. It’s just a matter of time until we get a confession.”
Murphy asked, “So we’re free to go? We’re trying to get to a wedding.”
The cop shrugged, reluctant to clear them but without grounds to hold them. The three of them watched as Bellamy used a baggie to clean up after Fido then went to the car. Without coming over to them he called out, “The wedding starts in ten hours and we’ve got seven hours of driving left.”
The officer shrugged. “Don’t speed.”
Murphy struggled to keep his pace slow as he made his way back to the car. He climbed into the passenger seat and Echo got in the back.
Bellamy said, “Echo needs to drive.”
She answered, “It’s your turn.”
“You’re the steadiest under pressure.”
She gave him a kiss then climbed into the driver’s seat. If he was mature enough to admit when things were beyond him then she was decent enough to help him through it.
When they were two miles down the road and certain the officer wasn’t following them, Bellamy leaned forward between the front seats. “Echo, keep it steady, OK?” He took a breath. “I know why the dog had diarrhea.”
Murphy muttered, “Thrilling.”
“His owner fed him laxatives.”
Echo’s foot stamped down on the gas and her fingers tightened on the wheel. She immediately caught herself and dropped back down to the least suspicious speed, that speed being five miles over the limit. “You found the diamonds.”
It took Murphy a moment longer for the truth to dawn on him. “The dog ate the diamonds.”
“Uh huh.”
“The dog is now shitting out the diamonds.”
“Uh huh.”
“And we own the dog.”
“Still right.”
Silence enveloped them as they contemplated the news. Time would tell exactly how many diamonds the dog had eaten, and between the three of them they had the contacts they’d need to fence them. They’d gotten more than a story and a dog out of their night in Kansas.
Murphy rolled his head against the back of the seat and his gaze met Bellamy’s. “I’m waiting for it. Some sort of Bellamy wrap up statement. A bit of wisdom or history. A dad joke. Something.”
Echo offered, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
Bellamy nodded. “Good, but I’d have gone with ‘All that glitters isn’t golden.’”
And at the next truck stop he bought Murphy a novelty t-shirt leftover from St. Patrick’s Day. It was covered in shamrocks and read, “My luck is shit.”