Megan
I woke Friday morning around nine. That is, I “woke” if you could even say I’d been asleep. My mind had been working all night and I hadn’t slept worth a crap. I rolled onto my back and stared up at my ceiling, pondering things I’d already pondered to death.
I knew Ryan had been stupid to drive so recklessly, and had nearly caused an accident with Adriana. But people in a panic didn’t act rationally. If Adriana had indeed been swerving at him, he might have freaked out. And how would I react if an ex had been harassing me? Had followed me home from a date? If I were honest, I could see how my Irish temper might have gotten the best of me. I might have wanted to give the ex a little scare, to show that I wasn’t frightened, to give him a taste of his own medicine. I might’ve temporarily lost my mind and engaged in a game of vehicular chicken. Heck, road rage was all too common for a reason. And even though I was normally a rational, reasonable person, I had lost my cool and Tasered Derek that time. I couldn’t expect suspects to have more restraint than I had myself, could I?
Ugh.
On the other hand, there was the gun, of course. Still, while the duct tape and zip ties had freaked me out and added a nefarious feel to the whole thing, maybe I’d read too much into them. If Adriana was the one causing problems, if she were trying to frame Ryan by throwing bricks and uploading profiles of herself to sex sites, Ryan would have every right to feel threatened, to feel the need to protect and defend himself.
Another aspect that didn’t sit well with me was how the two of them had ended up on the road together. I’d driven by Adriana’s place several times last night. Ryan’s, too. While his car had not been at his apartment, I hadn’t seen it near Adriana’s place, either. Surely if he were keeping watch on her I would have spotted him lying in wait, right?
Weighed down with questions and anxiety, I rolled out of bed and left the bedroom in search of Brigit. She normally slept on the bed with me, but she’d been gone when I woke up. I found her dozing on the futon. “Need to go out, girl?” I asked.
She didn’t even bother opening her eyes, merely turning over to her other side to face away from me.
“Well, good morning to you, too!”
I went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, leaving it to brew while I went to the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed. I returned a half hour later and poured myself a travel mug, adding a healthy dose of organic soy milk. Brigit padded into the kitchen, her eyes droopy. She wasn’t too tired to demand her breakfast, though. Woof-woof!
I filled a bowl with a can of wet food. She wolfed it down in a matter of seconds and went to the back door, giving me her “if you don’t let me out in three seconds I’ll piddle on the floor” look.
“You don’t need to give me that look,” I told her. “I know the drill.” I stepped over, turned the knob, and pushed the door open.
I took my coffee to the window and watched as she went outside. She engaged in a brief spat with that same stupid squirrel that taunted her every day—what a jackass—and popped a squat in the back corner. Once her load had been lightened, she trotted back into the center of the yard, flopped over onto her back, and rolled around, letting Mother Nature scratch her back. After a minute or so, she was sufficiently itch-free. She stood, shook the dried grass and leaves from her fur, and headed back to the door.
Frankie rounded the corner of the kitchen in her rumpled pajamas. Zoe chased after her, grabbing at her heels. You had to admire the cat’s ambition, trying to take down something fifteen times her size.
“Do I smell coffee?” Frankie asked.
“You do.” I grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and handed it to her. “Give me ten more minutes and you’ll smell cinnamon-raisin oatmeal, too.”
She slid into a seat at the kitchen table and Zoe hopped up onto her lap. I whipped up two quick bowls of oatmeal and set one in front of Frankie, the other in my usual spot. Given that first responders worked odd, inconsistent shifts, Frankie and I—like Seth and I—had been like ships passing in the night the last week or so. Eating breakfast together would give us a chance to catch up.
“You settling in at work?” I asked as I scooped up a bite of the steaming oatmeal.
“Yep,” she said. “They’ve put me in the regular rotations for cleaning duty, so I think that means the hazing is over.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m on cooking duty next week. I’ve never cooked for eight people before.”
They might put her back on cleaning duty once she’d cooked for them. She wasn’t exactly Rachael Ray. Her philosophy was to coat everything in ranch dressing to make it palatable.
I stirred my oatmeal, seeking a raisin. “I’ll e-mail you my spinach enchilada recipe. It’s easy and loaded with carbs for energy.” No doubt it took a lot of energy to fight fires and run up and down ladders.
“Thanks.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You wanna come to our bout tomorrow? We’re going up against the Shreveport She Devils.”
“Count me in. Gabby, too. She’s been dying to see you in action.” I always enjoyed watching Frankie and the other members of the Fort Worth Whoop Ass team play Roller Derby, even if I did cringe on occasion and cover my eyes when a player wiped out in spectacular fashion. Hitting that rink at such high speed had to hurt.
She scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal and blew on it to cool it off. “What’s going on in that stalker case?”
I gave her an update. “I’m not sure which one of them is the actual stalker,” I said, “but I felt like it was time to make a move. And since I saw Ryan swerve at Adriana and found the gun and other stuff in Ryan’s car, well…” I shrugged and issued a weary sigh.
Frankie chewed her oatmeal thoughtfully and swallowed. “So if you could figure out who followed who last night, that could help you figure things out.”
“Yeah.”
“What about traffic cameras?” she asked. “Maybe they picked something up.”
“There aren’t any in the area where they were.”
“Security cameras, then?”
I shook my head. “Those aren’t usually mounted to t-take in street traffic. They’re normally aimed at the parking lots. Besides, the cameras would only catch a snippet of time. Unless we got really lucky and found a video that showed one of them initially setting out after the other, they’re not likely to tell us much.”
Video footage that caught only part of an event often didn’t tell a complete story. This fact was one of the arguments for body cameras for police officers.
Undeterred by me shooting down all her ideas so far, Frankie spooned up another mouthful of oatmeal and held it aloft. “You said this Ryan guy is a techie, right? He installs Internet and cable? Maybe he tracked Adriana with some kind of gadget.”
“Hey. You may be on to something now.” While I hadn’t spotted Ryan’s car near Adriana’s house, that didn’t mean he wasn’t preparing to pounce. Maybe Ryan had been lying in wait electronically. “He could have installed some type of GPS or tracking app on Adriana’s phone when they were still dating.”
Surely she’d taken her phone with her when she’d left for the pharmacy last night. Cell phones were like underwear. Nobody left their home without it. Well, some did, I supposed. But they shouldn’t. And I’m talking both undies and cell phones.
Frankie ate the bite of oatmeal and circled her spoon in the air. “You can also get those magnetic tracking thingies that stick to the bottom of a car. I saw one used in a television show once.”
True. There were as many gadgets to spy on people as there were gadgets to protect a person’s privacy. Security devices, and devices that trumped other security devices, were a big business in America. Everyone seemed to want to know everything about everyone else, but they wanted to control what others knew about them.
When we finished breakfast, I slapped on some makeup, brushed my teeth, and headed to the W1 station in my Smart Car. I’d bought the thing before I’d been partnered with Brigit. Its excellent gas mileage and easy-to-park compact size had made sense at the time. Of course, I didn’t know I’d soon be responsible for a furry dog that weighed nearly as much as I did. Had I known, I’d have opted for a hybrid SUV.
I parked and took Brigit inside with me, heading down the hall to Detective Bustamente’s office. He was sitting at his desk, staring straight ahead, repeatedly riffling a stack of sticky notes. Rrrrriffle. Rrrrriffle. He looked up as I took the liberty of stepping into his office without waiting for an invitation.
“You thinking about the stalker case?” I asked.
“I am.” He tossed the sticky pad on his desk. “I heard what happened last night.”
“Do you think I made the right call? Bringing Ryan in?”
“I do.”
“That’s a relief.”
“It might be a relief, but it’s also a moot point. The assistant DA disagrees with us.”
“What?” I groaned and flopped down into one of his chairs. Brigit, in turn, flopped down at my feet.
“Downey bonded out already,” the detective said, “and his defense attorney has raised a stink. They say we’re going after the victim. He’s threatened to make fools of us. The assistant DA that’s been assigned the case is balking.”
I was familiar with many of the ADAs and none were wimps. A menacing defense attorney would only fuel their determination to get a conviction, not make them back down. They did like to keep their stats up, though, and they didn’t like to waste time and resources on cases they weren’t likely to win, especially when their caseloads were extremely heavy. Couldn’t much blame them for that. Given the questionable evidence against Ryan, it wasn’t entirely a surprise the DA wasn’t excited about moving ahead.
I leaned forward in the chair. “What if we could show that Ryan had tracked Adriana? That he’d used a GPS device on her car or put some type of tracking device on her phone? Do you think that would change things?”
“It might,” Bustamente said, “or it might not. One on her car would certainly be suspicious. But if there was something on her phone, some type of app, for instance, who’s to say she didn’t put it there?”
Damn it. He’s right. “Should I check her car? Just in case?”
“Can’t hurt,” he said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about those two. Whoever is causing problems isn’t getting over it.”
“If it’s Ryan,” I said, “maybe his arrest will make him think twice about doing something else. If it’s Adriana, maybe she’ll consider his arrest to be the chunk of flesh she needs to be satisfied.”
“I hope you’re right, Officer Luz,” he said. “But I’m afraid that might be wishful thinking.”
Brigit and I bade him good-bye, hopped into our cruiser, and headed over to the rehab center. I found Adriana’s car parked in the employee section behind the building. I parked in an empty spot nearby and climbed out, bringing my Maglite with me.
I lay down on my back next to her car and shined my flashlight around. There were all kinds of metal in all sorts of shapes. I had no idea what I was looking for. What does a GPS device even look like? I could be staring right at the thing and not even know it.
I sat up, pulled my phone from my pocket, and ran a search on the Internet. Dozens of different devices came up. Some of the models could be secreted in a glove compartment or ashtray, or under a seat, tracking the vehicle’s whereabouts for later access. That type of device would be of no use in this instance, as it did not provide immediate information. I scrolled down, reading the specs on other devices, looking for models that gave real-time information. While some had limited battery life and would have to be removed and recharged on a regular basis, my common sense told me that if Ryan had installed such a device, he would have chosen one with a long battery life so that he wouldn’t risk being caught removing or later reattaching the device.
I slid the phone back into my pocket. With the images in mind, I lay back once again and shined my flashlight around. Still, I saw nothing. Hmm.
My cell phone pinged in my pocket. I pulled it out again. The readout indicated it was Adriana on the line.
I jabbed the button to accept the call. “Hello, Miss Valdez.”
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I can see you from my window.”
I looked up to the third floor and saw her standing at her window. Even at this distance, I could tell she wasn’t making direct eye contact. As always, she was dressed in something drab. What does she have against color? Had she once fallen in a puddle while looking up at a rainbow? I raised a hand and she raised hers in return.
“I’m looking to see if Ryan might have attached a GPS device to your car so he could track your location.”
“Oh my God!” she gushed on a shaky breath. “I didn’t even think of that.”
“It’s also possible he might have put one on your phone,” I said. “Most people carry their phones with them at all times—”
“So if someone knows where a person’s phone is, they know where the person is?”
“Exactly.”
“I always have my phone with me,” she said. “Especially now, with all this weird stuff going on.”
“Did you ever give him your password for the app store?”
“Not that I remember,” she said, “but I couldn’t swear to it. He used my phone once or twice when his was out in his car or in another room or whatever. He synched our calendars, too, but I was able to unsynch them after we broke up. I don’t want him knowing what I’m doing, obviously.”
“Has your phone been doing anything unusual?” I asked. “Do you run out of data faster than normal? Or does the battery wear down more quickly than it used to?”
“Gosh,” she said, “I can’t say. I mean, I haven’t noticed that happening, but I really haven’t been paying much attention, either. Should I call my provider and see if I can get a report on my data usage or something?”
“You should definitely find out for your own protection. Maybe visit your provider’s store and have one of their people take a look at the phone. But as far as the case is concerned, even if there was some type of tracking installed on your phone, the prosecutor will say it will be impossible to prove who downloaded the app.”
When Adriana spoke again, she sounded miffed. “I thought prosecutors were supposed to be on the victim’s side.”
“They are,” I said. “But part of that is thinking like a criminal defense attorney, considering what arguments would be made on the defendant’s behalf. That helps them better build their cases and keep from putting victims through traumatic court proceedings they aren’t likely to win.”
“I get it,” she said. “I don’t like it, but I get it. Are you having any luck with my car?”
“Not really.” I thought things over for a moment. While I knew little about cars, I knew someone who knew a lot about them. Seth. Maybe I should have him come take a look, see if he could find a tracking device. “Do you mind if I have someone else come take a look?”
“That’s fine with me. If Ryan put something on my car I’d really like to know.”
We ended the call and I phoned Seth. He had the day off and I caught him at home. “Want to help me out?”
“In exchange for…?” He waited for me to fill in the blank.
“My eternal gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” He gave me a pffft. “I was thinking more along the lines of another back rub.”
“You got it.” Heck, he didn’t have to ask me twice. I loved touching his broad, strong shoulders.
He arrived in his Nova fifteen minutes later with Blast in the backseat. He parked next to my cruiser and our dogs greeted each other through the open windows with tail wags and barks.
Woof-woof!
Arf!
I handed him my flashlight and he did the same thing I’d done earlier, lying down on his back next to the car.
“I don’t see anything over here,” he said after looking under the driver’s side. He repeated the routine on the passenger side. “Don’t see anything over here, either.” He checked the undercarriage from both the front and back, too. “Nothing.” He stood back and cocked his head in thought. “Any chance it could be in the engine?”
Who knows? “Let’s find out.”
I dialed Adriana’s cell phone. When she answered I told her that there didn’t appear to be anything under the car. “We’d like to check under the hood. Can you unlock your car so we can pop it open?”
“All right.”
A moment later, we saw her at the window, pointing her key fob at her car. The headlights flashed and we heard a click as the door locks released. I opened the passenger door and gave a thumbs-up to Adriana.
As I slid into the driver’s seat, Seth ducked his head inside the car. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a car this clean. Not one that wasn’t brand-new and on a sales lot.”
“Adriana’s a little—”
“Uptight?” he supplied for me.
“Yeah. I guess you could say that.”
“I’m glad you’re not that way,” he said.
“Hey!” I said. “I’m clean.” It was true. I wasn’t a germaphobe like Adriana, and I didn’t shelve all my books by height, but I kept things reasonably sanitary and neat. It wasn’t difficult when you only owned little more than the bare essentials. Of course everything I owned sported a stray strand or two of dog hair. It was impossible to be immaculate with a dog around.
I tugged on the release for the hood.
Pop.
Seth circled back to the front of the car and raised the hood. I climbed out, closed the door, and stepped up next to him. He leaned in, shining the flashlight between the parts. While I could identify the battery and the reservoir for the windshield wiper fluid, I had no idea what all of the other parts were for.
“Aha!” Seth said a moment later. “There’s something that’s not supposed to be there.”
He shined the light on a small black rectangle hidden along the front. It looked very similar to the devices I’d seen in the photographs.
I exhaled sharply in relief. I had little doubt Ryan had put this device in Adriana’s car. I’d been right to arrest him. With any luck, this piece of evidence would mark the end of this investigation and the beginning of a new life, free from harassment, for Adriana. I fought the urge to shout hip-hip-hooray!
I snapped several pics of the device in place as well as one of Seth flexing his bicep, despite the fact that it was his mental muscle, not his physical muscle, that he’d been using. After returning my phone to my pocket, I donned latex gloves and plucked the device from the metal, having to wiggle it a little to break the magnetic bond. It was ironic, I thought, that Ryan had put something magnetic in her car. Magnets were drawn together when they were opposites, just like Adriana and Ryan seemed to be opposites. I dropped the GPS into an evidence bag, sealed it, and tugged off the gloves, wiping my hands on my pants to remove the excess powder.
After Seth closed the hood, my phone rang again. It was Adriana. “I saw you pull something out and put it in a bag. You found a GPS, didn’t you?” Her voice was high and slightly frantic. “Ryan was tracking me?”
“We did find a device,” I said. “But it’s out now. Try not to worry, okay? I’ll take it to our crime scene techs and see if they can find prints on it.” Now that Ryan had been booked, we’d have prints to compare them to so that we could know for certain if they were his. “You might also want to apply for a protective order yourself. There are forms online that you can download.”
“I’ll do that,” she said. “Thanks, Officer Luz. Please thank the guy with you, too. Who is he, by the way? Maybe I should come down in person.”
Lest she have designs on my man, I merely said, “He’s an associate. No need to come down. We have to roll.” With a quick promise to let her know the results of the fingerprint search, I ended the call.
I returned to the station, where I passed the GPS device on to the crime scene techs for analysis. “If you find any prints,” I told them, “see if they match a man by the name of Ryan Downey. He was booked last night.”
“Downey,” the tech said as he took the baggie from me. “Got it.”
We picked up lunch on the way back to my house, where I treated Seth to that back rub he’d bargained for. After all, that’s what relationships are about, right? Give-and-take.