Chapter 2 - Greer calls the police
The first person who called police was not me.
It was Greer.
That fact mattered later.
I was too angry.
Too confused.
Too focused on Pippa.
Camilla said:
“Nobody is calling anyone.”
Greer had already pulled out her phone.
“I am.”
Camilla stepped toward her.
“Put that away.”
I moved between them.
“Don’t.”
Camilla stared at me.
“You think I was hurting her?”
I looked toward the broken kennel door.
“That is exactly what I think.”
“She was in there for less than a minute.”
“Today.”
Camilla stopped.
Pippa was behind my leg.
One hand gripping my trousers.
I crouched again.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
“Did she hit you?”
“No.”
“Did you fall?”
“No.”
I almost asked:
How many times have you slept in there?
Then stopped.
I was not an investigator.
I was a father whose judgment had just detonated.
I said:
“We’re going inside.”
Pippa shook her head violently.
“No.”
“Okay.”
That response came automatically.
“Do you want to stay out front?”
She pointed toward my car.
So we went to the driveway.
Air-conditioning.
Doors unlocked.
I sat in the rear seat beside her while Greer spoke to dispatch.
Camilla remained on the patio.
She did not run.
She did not destroy the kennel.
She called an attorney.
By the time officers arrived, she had already been told not to answer substantive questions.
That frustrated me at the time.
Later I understood it was her legal right.
Police separated us.
An officer photographed the kennel.
Bedding.
Broken latch.
Suitcase.
Dog-food bins.
Pippa’s position in the car.
No bruising visible.
No graphic injury.
The officer asked whether I had assaulted Camilla.
“No.”
“Threatened her?”
“No.”
“Damaged property?”
“The kennel door.”
“How?”
“Kicked it open.”
“Was your daughter inside?”
“Yes.”
He wrote that down.
Then:
“Did you see Ms. Norwood place the child inside?”
“Yes.”
“Lock it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear why?”
“She said Pippa lied and ten minutes would teach consequences.”
The officer looked toward the kennel.
“And your daughter says she has slept there?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
That was the hardest answer.
Because a father should know where his five-year-old sleeps.
