Stop, stop! I had my sadness. Now I could tie it in with the role Bea wanted me to play. The missing panda had been my most treasured possession for years. I loved it and had been a wreck since I lost it. If I didn't find it here in the city's lost and found, I'd be devastated.
Interestingly, the lost panda story also made me sad, even though it was a lie. One quick dig of my nails into my palm, and the tears started to flow. I gave the officer a little sniffle and began my sorrowful tale.
"My panda! I lost it last week. Do you have it?" I curved my arms wide as if hugging a tree trunk. "It's big."
Now some people might ask why a full-grown woman was pining for a stuffed animal. But I figured I could still have a lovey, even at age 24. So what if it was a little immature? And if Officer Lost-And-Found asked about it, I had a story all worked out.
But he didn't care. "Yeah, we have it." He flashed a smile and started to type into his computer.
I knew he had the panda. It had been there for a week, ever since Carl and his grandson had brought in. But the officer's quick recollection of the panda made me pause. Either he knew about it because big stuffed pandas are hard to ignore-which would be good-or they'd discovered something unusual about it and were waiting for it to be claimed. And that would be bad, possibly prison-time bad.
I started to sweat from the con tension. Funny how this never happened to me when I was young. But there it was again, wrapped around my spine like a serpent. I remembered how the fear was worse when guns were involved, when the people I was conning were dangerous or powerful. When, for example, I was pulling a con in a building full of armed police.
I had to step carefully. If the officer gave any indication that he thought this was an unusual claim, I needed to leave. But for now, I continued to play my part. "That's wonderful!" I clasped my hands together with a relieved sigh. "But are you sure it's mypanda?" If I got any bad signs about this, I'd simply say it wasn't mine.
"We have someone's panda. Could be yours. Let's see. . ." He consulted the screen. "When did you see it last?"
"Tuesday, in the park." I gave him the long story so I could watch him more closely and sense for trouble. "I know I shouldn't take it outside like that, but I'd just broken up with my boyfriend, so my sister suggested that we celebrate." I gave him a light laugh. "She never liked him."