by Kate Gable
On this particular occasion, they happened to have some 88% and I grab the Midnight Blue Bar for just a dollar.
I'm chewing on the first square before I even get back to the car and I haven’t even had breakfast yet. I know that my chocolate addiction is not something that's ever going to help me lose those fifteen pounds, but I’m not starting any new diets today. What I need now is some comfort and love, even if it's just in the form of food.
After appeasing my sweet tooth, I drive over to the sheriff’s station. I have to let them know what Natalie said and the contradictory stories.
I also have the feeling that they might have already heard from Neil's family and the fact that I've been bothering him.
Captain Talarico is angry. He’s so pissed off that if he were a cartoon character, there'd be steam coming out of his ears.
"What did I tell you?" he asks, practically slamming his hand against the desk. "You cannot bother the Gosses again. They called and they complained and now we can’t talk to them about anything without their attorney."
“He’s a prosecutor. Why would he need an attorney?”
“That’s just how it is. He wants to protect himself. But there’s no way we’re getting anything out of that boy now.”
This catches me by surprise and I actually take a step away from him.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask Neil a question.”
"Listen, I know that you're just trying to find your sister, I get that.” The captain takes a deep breath. “We're doing the best that we can, but with Mr. Goss, you don't want to get on the wrong side. He may be the prosecutor, but that's his son. If we want to get any information out of that family without them clamping up, we need to be smart. We need to be able to work with them, do you understand that?"
I nod.
"This isn't the LAPD, okay? I'm sure that you have your own way of doing things. We are a small town. People know each other well. There are cliques and there are ways to get things done. This direct approach of yours, that's not going to go anywhere, and you can't intimidate them with your badge because you have no jurisdiction here."
The captain is not saying anything that I don't already know.
"Listen, I know that I messed up. I just called him and I wanted to... I thought that maybe he would tell me something."
"That kid is too smart," Captain Talarico says. "He's lying about where he was that night, and he's too smart to tell you the truth."
"How do you know that he's lying?" I ask.
"His girlfriend, Natalie, we talked to her."
"Oh, you did? I just talked to her this morning, too."
"You could have saved yourself a trip if you had just come straight here."
I nod and ask, "What did she tell you?"
"She told me that she was home all night, her brothers corroborated her story."
"You didn't confront her about what Neil told us?"
"No, we were going to hold onto that little piece of information until you happened to reveal it."
“I didn't tell her, but yeah, I get the point," I say, hanging my head down.
Captain Talarico narrows his eyes and puffs out his cheeks a little bit. I wait for him to go on another rampage, but he doesn’t, holding himself back.
"Listen, I don't know if this Neil kid had anything to do with this, but you need to let me deal with this my way. If he was involved, then it means trouble. His father is very well-connected and he is going to do everything in his power to protect his son, trust me."
“Yes, I understand.” I nod.
“Mr. Goss has big political aspirations. That’s why he’s here. He was a very effective and successful defense attorney for many years until he came up here and started to pretend to be an everyman. He's doing an okay job at it, but I know what he’s really after."
The captain points to the chair in front of his desk and I take a seat. There are pictures of his family members in silver picture frames on his desk. I pick one up.
His wife looks like someone who enjoys crocheting and baking pies; kind, well-meaning, and without a cruel bone in her body.
"We've been together for thirty-five years," the captain says, his expression softening. "For a long time, we couldn't have children, but then we were lucky to have Alex. He's ten now."
My gaze shifts to the other picture of a little boy in Disneyland. He has a beautiful smile and the same inquisitive eyes of his father.
"You have a beautiful family."
“Thank you. I love them very much. They're my whole world,” he says after a moment.
"Most people in your position make this job their whole world."
"I've seen the movies, I've read the books, and I'm not going to make those same mistakes," Captain Talarico says. "This is a job. I work many hours. I'm going to have a good pension. I solve crimes, upkeep the peace, but these two over here, they're my number one."
"That's good," I say, nodding slightly. "That's the way it's supposed to be."
We sit in a long moment of silence, him looking at me admiring his family.
"We're forming a task force today,” Captain Talarico says. “I'm going to do everything in my power to find your sister.”
“I appreciate that.”
I walk out of his office and suddenly a wave of emotion washes over me. I clench my teeth and make a fist with my hands to try to hold it at bay.
I appreciate him not promising me anything. Cops tend to make a lot of empty promises.
I also appreciate him telling me that he'll keep looking, telling me not to give up hope. That kind of thing matters a lot, a lot more than you would think.
18
I make my way down the bland hallway, pausing briefly at the wall of photos with important people on the walls. The one that catches my attention is the one with Mr. Timothy Goss's name on the bottom.
He is embracing the sheriff and the mayor, practically holding court. I examine his thoughtful eyes, his distant stare, and the general aura of self-satisfaction, which emanates from him and all of the other men in the photograph.
"He's a big contributor to the precinct or at least he was before he became the prosecutor," Captain Talarico says, catching up to me. "Gave lots of money for various fundraisers.”
Police departments aren’t exactly a charitable organization in need of funding. In fact, most have a little bit too much funding and tend to funnel that money into all sorts of tactical gear, resulting in dubious consequences. I keep this to myself.
"This is why I need to tread lightly,” Captain Talarico adds. “We don't know if Neil is involved in your sister's disappearance. We know that he's lying or maybe his girlfriend is, but there's no evidence pointing to the fact that either of them had anything to do with it. Of course, we need to find out why he's lying."
I nod, exhaling slowly. I know that what he's saying is true, but I also can't help but feel that people in this department are trying to tiptoe around someone who really shouldn't be tiptoed around.
“Mr. Goss can make things very difficult for us and we can't just go around making accusations."
"You mean like you would otherwise?"
He stays silent, biting the inside of his lip.
"That's the thing though, right? If he were some poor kid with a single mom who worked at Walmart, what would happen to him?"
Again, the captain says nothing.
"You'd bring him in. You would interview him, interrogate him, maybe lie to him about some of the evidence that you had. I know this because that's what we do, too. It's standard operating procedure."
"Listen, things aren't perfect. The world isn't perfect."
"You don't have to tell me that," I snap.
"I want to show you the pictures that we found on Violet's computer," Captain Talarico says, pivoting the conversation.
I swallow hard. Now, it's time to see them.
Downstairs, the captain introduces me to Mallory Daniels, the computer tech. After a brief amount of chitchat, s
he puts on gloves and opens Violet’s laptop.
There's a bright pink sticker of a butterfly in one corner. It's bent and a little bit crooked and worn out.
Mallory pulls up a few files and turns the screen toward me. There are pictures of teenagers. They look about Violet's age.
I don't recognize any of them. They're in the basement of someone's house, most in various stages of undress. It looks like the pictures were taken by someone standing right in front of them.
Then the videos start. The teenagers make out and then eventually have sex. They're not fully naked, but not fully clothed either. Some shirts are removed, other skirts are just hiked up.
"Someone was standing right there in the middle of that room, making this video," Captain Talarico says.
I nod. The camera isn’t fixed. You can tell by the way the camera pans, moves, and shakes that it is handheld.
Mallory goes to the next file and the next file and there are more like that.
"Do you think that Violet took these?” I ask.
“Don’t know,” she says.
One video is of Neil and Natalie. They're standing apart in a dark room and then slowly they come together and kiss.
They are partly clothed. He keeps his shirt on but pulls down his pants. Her bra stays on and her skirt comes up.
The video was shot in black and white. It's almost artistic in its style. There isn't the same zooming in on certain action shots. There isn't the constant angle from the perspective of the guy viewing the girl. It’s more detached, distant, and it kind of looks like the voyeurism that existed in the other basement video as well.
Then just like that, right before the end, Violet appears on screen.
She waves hello but doesn't smile. Her hair is draped over her face.
She looks down and then up.
Her nails are painted black, which is something that I haven't seen before, and she's wearing way too much makeup. Her skin is pale. It's also in black and white and the shadows are, of course, exaggerated, but it's clear to me that this is indeed my sister.
"Is this all that you have? Are there more videos?"
"These are the main ones. There’re a lot of still shots that you're welcome to look through, but they're basically created from these two videos."
I nod and shift my weight from one foot to another, trying to process what I have just watched.
"Why? Why did my sister make these?" I ask, thinking out loud.
"I don't know, but they're very different, aren't they?" Captain Talarico asks.
"Yes. They're not exactly like amateur porn," I agree.
"What is it about them? I can't quite put my finger on it."
"Well, there isn't a lot of that stuff that's in black and white and she kind of keeps her distance. That is, if she made that one in the basement as well. There's an observer element to it. Usually, there's a lot of zooming in on body parts and that kind of thing to create the effect of the viewer being part of the experience, but this one doesn't have anything like that."
He nods and I nod as well. Mallory leaves us alone in the room.
"Well, she clearly made the one with Neil and Natalie," I say. "That's not good."
"No, but they were also aware of themselves being filmed. I mean, they know that she's there."
"Yeah, that's true, but why? Why did she do that and why were they all filming themselves?"
"Are you really asking that?" Captain Talarico says with a smirk. "Have you seen teenagers today? They record themselves doing practically everything, so having sex? Yeah, that's kind of a memorable moment to put on film."
"I know."
I start to pace from one side of the room to the other. I look through the half-open blinds at the snowcapped pines outside.
There's a little kid and his mom riding a tricycle. He can't get the pedals quite right, so she pushes him along. He keeps getting frustrated and wanting her to help, but she keeps getting distracted by her phone.
I watch them do this dance for a little while until my thoughts slowly drift back to Violet.
"I have to ask them about this."
"No," Captain Talarico says, folding his hands across his chest. He sits down in the chair, leans back, and it makes a loud squeaking sound.
"You're not going to ask them anything about this. Both Neil and Natalie are minors and their parents are entitled to be in the room during any sort of interrogation."
This would be a problem to deal with, with a regular teenager, but given who Neil’s father is this situation has to be dealt with very carefully.
"You realize, of course, that if we tell Mr. Goss about these videos and he sees them, he can press charges against your sister,” the captain adds.
I bite my lower lip and nod very slowly. Yes, that idea has just dawned on me.
Making videos of underage people in intimate situations is a very serious crime. My sister was the one who was recording this content. I breathe out slowly, trying to figure out the best way to approach this.
"What are you going to do?" I ask.
"I don't know yet. We have to talk it over. We have to go through various options,” he says, thinking out loud. “Obviously, according to this video, they were willingly participating in it, but who knows what happened before the tape started rolling. Does this video even have anything to do with her disappearance?”
"What about Natalie?" I ask. "What if I talk to her about it? What if I don't mention the video directly, but maybe ask about the possibility of it existing? I'm not sure yet."
He considers this option.
"I could talk to her after school. I can ask her again about why Neil would say that they were together that night. Maybe she can give us a clue. Perhaps there are rumors that these videos exist. I can mention that."
Captain Talarico tilts his head to one side.
"I like the idea of you coming to her as Violet’s sister," he finally says, "not in the official capacity. The problem is that we don't really know if this has anything to do with anything. But maybe we can get some information without her mom getting involved."
Of course, we are skirting the ethical line. Anyone under the age of eighteen is entitled to have their parent present during our questioning. But I won’t be there in any official capacity and, if I were, she probably wouldn’t talk to me.
“Okay," I say, shaking my head and extending my hand. "I'll go talk to her and feel her out."
"Do not mention anything specific about this video. Push her, hint at it at the most, but she can’t know that we have it."
"I agree.” I nod.
"Take this with you." He grabs something off a desk. It's a small Sony recorder that's typically used for dictations.
"You know how to use this?"
I nod.
"I want to hear the gist of the conversation."
"You know that you can't use any of it in court or anything like that?" I point out.
"It doesn't matter. We just want to catch her in her lie if she is lying.”
After grabbing lunch, I head back to the high school to get Natalie. I get there a little bit early because I have no idea when exactly she'll be coming out.
There's going to be a slew of people outside and I wonder if I'll be able to catch her at all.
I park in the visitors' section, get out and sit down on a bench right underneath the American flag flapping violently in the wind.
When the last bell rings, the doors open and kids start to stream out. There are buses lined up front and most beeline for their rides. A few head toward the parking lot to awaiting parents who quickly start their engines and try to beat the traffic down a blocked one-way street.
I keep scanning faces until I see Natalie walking out with a girl on each side. Dressed in sky high heels and a big puffy pink coat, Natalie looks like a Pantene commercial model with her bouncy blonde hair swaying in the glistening sunlight. She heads toward the parking lot and, after her friends bid her farewell, I seize my opportunity.<
br />
"Hi, Natalie.” I wave, putting my phone in my pocket.
"Oh. Hi," she says, making a bubble with her gum. "What's up? Did you find Violet?"
"Actually, no, I haven't. I just wanted to ask you a few follow-up questions."
"Yeah, sure. My mom is picking me up soon, but I have a few minutes,” she says, turning toward me.
"I wanted to ask you why you lied about not being with Neil," I say, focusing my eyes directly on hers.
"I didn't. We weren't together,” she says without a flinch. “I got some pizza with my brothers and that's it."
"Earlier you said that you and your brothers weren’t together that evening, but you were home."
"Did I? No. No, we were together, but at one point, I don't know exactly when, we went out and got some pizza."
"The three of you went together?"
"Yep." She chews with her mouth open, tries to make a bubble but it pops prematurely. She tries again and this time it becomes substantial, eventually reaching its breaking point and deflating unceremoniously.
"Which pizza shop was that?"
“Fresco’s, the best one in town."
My heart drops and skips a beat. Fresco’s is one of the most popular local hangouts. They have some of the best pizza west of New York City.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"
"Honestly, this morning I was kind of in a daze. I guess I just forgot."
I nod, uncertain as to whether I believe her or if she's actually as stupid as she sounds.
I try to think of a good way to transition to the video portion of my questioning, but then we reach the parking lot and her mom waves.
"I'm going to be late. C’mon!” Mrs. D’Achille yells.
Natalie throws a peace sign at me and climbs into the front seat of the Buick with three rows of seats.
19
I drive over to Fresco’s in Big Bear Village. It was there when I was growing up and probably even when my parents first moved here. But I haven't been there in years. The memories are too difficult to deal with.
