by Diane Kelly
My accusatory brows fell back into place. “A girl? But she didn’t come to see you at camp?”
“She was across the street,” he said, which evidently to his young mind meant she had not come to camp. Interrogating kids is hard!
Rather than ask Toby more questions he might misinterpret, I decided to let him take the lead. “Tell me what happened with this girl.”
“Okay,” he said. “When it’s pickup time we get to go out and play on the playground until our parents come to get us. There was a girl across the street and she called my name. I went to the fence and she said for me to tell my uncle Ryan she had his comic book and to meet her at their taco place at seven o’clock. She made me say it back to her three times to make sure I got it right. When my dad picked me up I told him, and then my dad called Uncle Ryan and told him, too.”
Either the kid was telling the truth, or Ryan’s brother had been pulled into this mess, along with his son. Children would say just about anything their parents told them to. I’d learned that pretty early on. Child: Daddy’s not home. Me: So that’s not his foot sticking out from under your bed? Poor kids, caught in the middle, trying to do what was right but not knowing what that was. But would Ryan go so far as to implicate his brother and nephew in a stalking scheme? It seemed a little far-fetched.
“What did the girl look like?” I asked Toby.
“She had long yellow hair,” he said.
Had it been Adriana in a wig? The same wig she might have used to try to gain access to Ryan’s apartment? “What kind of clothes was she wearing?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Anything else you can tell me about her? Did you see her car, maybe? Or where she went after she talked to you?”
“I don’t ’member anything else,” he said.
“Okay. Thanks, Toby. Bye-bye, sweetie.” I ended the call and turned to Ryan. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and let you go for now, but I’m going to talk to the people at the Southside Rec Center, check their security cameras, see if they back up your story.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “How’d you know where Toby went to day camp?”
“You shared a picture of him on your Facebook page.”
Ryan’s brows rose. “You looked at my Facebook page?”
“I did what any competent investigator would do,” I said. “You made your posts public.” In other words, you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself if you feel like your privacy has been violated.
He shook his head, but he seemed to be shaking it at himself. “I should’ve realized Adriana would look at my page, too. That must’ve been how she figured out where Toby would be.”
“Change your settings,” I suggested. “In the meantime, go on home and stay put for the night.”
He scowled. “You gonna tell Adriana the same thing?”
“I will. But don’t you even think about going to her place to try to get that comic book. She may not even have it.”
He turned red with rage again and huffed. “This is ridiculous! You keep acting like I’m the bad guy when it’s her! She’s the one who tried to choke me, remember? I’m the one with the protective order.”
I raised a conciliatory palm. “Look, all I want is for you to be careful, okay? The two of you are toxic to each other. Maybe you should think about moving to another part of town, avoiding the places you two used to go.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said on an exhale, resignation in his voice. “My rent’s going up anyway.”
Good. Maybe he’d move farther away and the two of them would never cross paths again.
I returned to my cruiser and drove to the Southside Recreation Center. I let Brigit take a quick tinkle and sniff around the grounds while my eyes scanned the building for outdoor security cameras. Aha! One was discreetly mounted under the eaves and was aimed out over the playground area. Good. Maybe I’d finally get some irrefutable evidence of wrongdoing here and get to put this case to rest once and for all. Of course, with the way my luck had been going lately, the camera would be another phony like the one at the party supply store.
I led Brigit inside and checked in with the receptionist, who paged the evening supervisor. When he stepped up to the desk, I introduced myself and my partner. “Could we take a look at the security camera footage from this afternoon? There was an alleged incident on the playground that I’m looking into.”
He looked taken aback. “I haven’t heard about any incident. Did a child get hurt?”
“No. It’s nothing that would bring liability on the center. One of the day campers told me a woman spoke to him when he was on the playground at the end of the day. She’s a person of interest in one of my cases. I want to see if the camera picked her up.”
He looked relieved, but only slightly. Surely it was disconcerting to know a potential criminal suspect had been lurking about the center he was responsible for. “Come back to my office and we can take a look.”
A few minutes later, Brigit was sniffing around the baseboards in the man’s office while he and I huddled behind his desk, forwarding through video footage. As I watched, a group of about fifteen children from the day camp program streamed out onto the playground, each heading for their favorite play equipment. While two other kids elbowed each other as both tried to be first on the monkey bars, Toby ran for the swings. Watching him swing back and forth at six times speed was dizzying. When he’d had his fill of the swing, he leaped off and climbed onto the playscape, zipping down the slide headfirst at warp speed.
The man frowned. “The counselors are supposed to make sure they don’t do that. They could get a concussion.”
The two counselors, both of whom were girls who appeared to be in their teens, sat at a picnic table, absorbed in their cell phones, paying little attention to their charges.
The man grunted. “Those two will be watching this footage tomorrow.”
A moment later, Toby turned his head to look at something off screen.
I flapped my hand at the screen. “There! Can you slow it down now?”
The man grabbed his mouse and clicked on the icon that controlled the speed, slowing it down to actual time. As we watched, Toby walked over to the edge of the playground and stopped at the plastic edging that ran around it, holding in the wood chips used to soften the ground in the event a child fell. He stood there for a moment, staring through the wrought-iron fence at something off camera and saying nothing. A few seconds later, his lips began to move. Though I didn’t read lips and couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, it appeared from the shape of his mouth that he’d repeated the same thing three times, exactly like he’d told me the woman had instructed him to do. As this exchange took place, the counselors never once looked up. They’d be useless in helping me identify the woman.
“Are there any cameras that would show who the boy is speaking with?”
“Sorry,” the man said. “Looks like she was across the street. The cameras only show the rec center property. People don’t like it when security cameras record anything on their private property, especially if the cameras are operated by a government facility. Big Brother and all that.”
I thanked the man and led Brigit outside and across the street, aiming for the point where it appeared Toby had been looking. Two kids, one on a skateboard and another on a bike, sped past on the sidewalk, while a woman with a baby in a stroller approached from down the block. There was no telling how many people might have gone down this sidewalk since Toby had spoken with the blonde hours earlier. Still, it was worth a try.
I issued Brigit the order for her to trail. She sniffed around for a moment, looked up at me as if to say there was no fresh disturbance, and tried again. Eventually she began to walk slowly in one direction, as if she’d found a weak scent. She led me down a residential side street before stopping and plunking herself down on her hindquarters. If she’d been tracking the blonde, and I wasn’t entirely sure she had been, this must have been the point wher
e the woman got into her car. I looked around. Unfortunately, there were no security cameras in sight.
None of the windows on the two closest houses faced this direction, but I decided to try them anyway. I spoke to the occupants, but none recalled having seen a blond woman on the street or a car parked along the curb where I pointed.
“I keep all the blinds closed in summer,” one of the women told me. “Otherwise I can hardly afford my air-conditioning bill.”
Sighing, I led Brigit back to the cruiser and opened her enclosure. She hopped in, plopped down, and began mouthing a chew toy. I climbed into the driver’s seat and drove to Adriana’s house, not at all looking forward to what was sure to be another frustrating conversation for both of us.
I left Brigit in the squad car as I went up to Adriana’s door and knocked. I told her what Ryan and Toby had told me, and told her about the security-camera footage at the rec center. “The kid talked to someone. Ryan is convinced it was you.”
She gasped. “So you believe him? Instead of me?”
I fought the urge to scream I don’t know who or what to believe! It was all I could do not to grab her by the shoulders and try to shake the truth out of her. “What I believe, Miss Valdez, is that both of you need to do your best to steer clear of each other.”
She harrumphed. “Thanks a lot.”
How the hell did I end up in the middle of this lovers’ squabble? “Look,” I said. “I’m glad you called me tonight and I’ll do what I can to keep you safe. But you’ve got to help me help you, okay? Avoid anyplace you two used to go, anywhere he might be. Do everything you can to stay away from the guy.”
She sighed but said, “Okay. I will.”
Finally, someone being reasonable. Hallelujah!
* * *
Thursday night, I cruised W1, making several rounds by Adriana’s house and Ryan’s apartment. While Adriana’s car was parked in her driveway, both Ryan’s Camaro and work truck had been gone all evening. Where was he? Was he out on a date with Danielle? Maybe another woman? Out with the guys watching a sports game somewhere? And if he was driving one of his vehicles, who was driving the other?
My mind continued to mull over the possibilities. Ryan could be behind everything that had happened. Statistically speaking, he was the more likely culprit. He didn’t seem to have a good sense of boundaries when it came to personal interactions and relationships. The blonde at his apartment and the one at the rec center could have been someone he hired in an attempt to frame Adriana. On the other hand, Adriana could just as easily be the guilty one. She was an odd duck, difficult to read. She didn’t seem to have many people in her life, so the loss of a relationship might have hit her especially hard. Either way, these stunts seemed like a lot of trouble to go to just to goad someone into a conversation or get back at them. But obsessive people were willing to go to great lengths to achieve their aims.
It was half past midnight when Adriana phoned me again, her voice frantic. “Ryan’s following me again! He’s right behind me this time!”
“Where are you?”
“Rosedale, heading east. I just passed Jerome Street.”
“Stay on the line,” I told her as I jammed on the gas. “I’ll be there in under a minute.”
Given that it was late on a weeknight, there were few cars on the road. I sped up Eighth Avenue and was approaching from the other direction when I saw headlights ahead. Their movement indicated that the car in the inner lane was trying to force the one in the outer lane over. Holy shit! Is he trying to run her off the road?
I turned on my lights and siren and was on them in an instant. I pulled into the oncoming lane, angling my car to force them both to a stop, and grabbed the mic for my public address system. “Get out of your car with your hands up! Now!”
He did as he was told, though he made a point of revving his engine first. VROOOOOM!
Sheesh. Grow up, you arrogant imbecile.
He climbed out of his car, leaving the engine running and the driver’s door open. Is he going to try to get back in and take off? Maybe run me over in the process? No way would I get out of my cruiser until another officer was on the scene to help me.
I grabbed my radio to call dispatch. “Backup needed.” I gave my location. Picking my cell phone back up, I said, “Stay in your car, Adriana.” Keeping a close eye on Ryan, I sat back to wait.
Squinting into my headlights, Ryan turned his raised hands palms up. “Is that you, Officer Luz?” he called.
I pressed the button on the mic. “Yes.”
With his hands still raised, he pointed the right one in the direction of Adriana’s car. “She followed me! She was trying to run me off the road! I was only trying to defend myself!”
I hadn’t seen the entire interaction between the two of them, but nonetheless, I wasn’t buying it. Even if she’d been the one following him, he could’ve turned left to evade her or made a U-turn to get away.
In less than a minute, Officer Spalding pulled up behind the two cars. Now that my backup was here, I climbed out of my car.
As I walked up to Ryan, he began to lower his arms.
“Keep ’em up!” I barked.
“But it’s starting to hurt!”
“Try bending your elbows a little.”
After turning off the Camaro and removing the keys from the ignition, I stepped aside and, in a lowered voice, gave Spalding a quick update. “You remember when I called you a few weeks ago about the brick incident? These two were the ones involved. There have been multiple incidents since then. Detective Bustamente and I have been working the case, but we can’t tell who’s at fault, or whether one of them might be trying to frame the other. It’s a huge mess. This is the second time Ms. Valdez has called me this week about being followed by Mr. Downey. I don’t know how the whole thing started, but I saw him swerve and try to force her off the road.”
Spalding, being a man of muscles and not words, lifted his chin in acknowledgment.
“Would you keep an eye on him while I speak with Ms. Valdez and search his car?”
He replied with another chin lift and stepped into position a few feet away from Ryan, his hands near his belt, sending the clear message Try anything and I’ll put a bullet in your kneecap.
I circled around to Adriana’s car. Her driver’s side fender was less than two inches from Ryan’s cockeyed Camaro. It was a miracle the two hadn’t collided. With so little space between the cars, I had to move to the passenger window to get close enough to speak with her.
She rolled the glass down when she saw me peering in. She was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts, an off-white T-shirt, and white flip-flops. The woman seemed to have a serious aversion to color. She wore no makeup and, though her hair was brushed, it was clear it had not been recently styled. Her face was tight with anxiety, her eyes filled with unshed tears, her lips quivery. Her hands gripped her steering wheel as if hanging on for dear life. I noticed her shoulders trembling, too. Needless to say, she was terrified. I also noticed that the inside of her car was immaculate. No loose change, hair bands, or crumpled fast-food napkins in the console. No travel mug or water bottle forgotten in the cup holder. No leftover parking receipts on the dash. Adriana was the queen of the neatniks.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Ryan tried to kill me!” She broke down into an all-out cry, covering her face with her hands and sobbing into them.
I gave her some time to get her emotions out. When she seemed to have calmed a bit, I asked, “Can you tell me how you two ended up out here?”
She sniffled and grabbed a tissue from her purse, which was beige, of course.
“I woke up about an hour ago not feeling well.” She sniffled and dabbed at her nose. “I have a horrible migraine. I get them every once in a while. I didn’t realize until I looked in my bathroom drawer that I was out of Excedrin. There’s no way I’d be able to sleep without it, so I threw on some clothes and left to go to the twenty-four-hour pharmacy. I was on my way
when I realized Ryan was following me again.”
“So he followed you from your house?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see any headlights behind me until I’d been driving for a couple of minutes. He pulled up beside me at a light and honked his horn to get my attention. When I looked over, he was—” She spewed another quick sob before finishing her sentence. “He was pointing a gun at me!”
Holy shit.
I’d been afraid things would escalate, and they certainly had. Knowing Ryan had a gun made me glad I’d called for backup and hadn’t gotten out of my car until Spalding arrived. If I’d done otherwise, I might have been smoked.
“Stay in your car,” I told her. “I’m going to talk to him.”
I went back around the cars and stood in front of Ryan. “Got a weapon on you?”
“No.”
I looked him up and down but saw no suspicious bulges. “Adriana said you pointed a gun at her when you were stopped at a traffic light.”
At that, Spalding arched a brow and unsnapped his police holster, giving himself easier access to his weapon should he need it.
“Adriana’s a fucking liar!” Ryan cried. “Besides, how could she even see into my car? It’s got tinted windows.”
I glanced over at his car. The windows were dark, probably the darkest legal shade a person could have on their vehicle. But that didn’t mean anything. “She could have seen into your car if you had the window down.”
“I didn’t!” he insisted. “My windows were up!”
While Spalding watched, I patted Ryan down. He was clean. “You can put your arms down now,” I told him.
He lowered them and rubbed first one shoulder, then the other.
“Tell me what was happening out here.”
“Adriana came after me,” he said. “I took Danielle out to a movie tonight, and after I dropped her off at her place I realized I was being followed. I’m pretty sure Adriana has followed us before but I could never be sure. Every time I slowed down to see if it was her she’d turn off. Tonight, she pulled up next to me at a light and unrolled her window and started screaming that I was a cheater and a liar and didn’t deserve to live. When the light turned green and I tried to drive away from her, she kept swerving over like she was trying to hit me.”
