Megan
I was back on nights in mid-September. After scratching up the cars and slashing Ryan’s tires, Adriana had been charged with felony criminal mischief and violating the protective order Ryan had against her. But given that she had no prior record and that it appeared Ryan’s actions might have led to her “losing it,” the prosecutor went easy on her and worked out a plea deal under which she pled guilty to a misdemeanor and agreed to perform twenty hours of community service at a soup kitchen. I hoped they’d keep her away from the knives.
There was no moon tonight and an abundance of clouds that blocked out all starlight. The sky and earth were exceptionally opaque, as if trying to hide their darkest secrets. Forest Park was nearly invisible in the blackness.
Brigit seemed to sense the odd, ominous quality of the night, too. I’d left the windows down so she could get some fresh air, and she stood at the mesh, sniffing the breeze, her furry brow furrowed as if she smelled trouble coming our way.
As I drove out of the park and onto the dimly lit streets, I wondered if, or when, Ryan’s and Adriana’s prophecies might come true and one of them would kill the other. But who would be the killer and who would end up in a body bag? I still had no idea.
Despite Detective Bustamente’s assurances that I’d done all I could, that some cases would always go unsolved, that many questions would go forever unanswered, I had a difficult time accepting what felt like a failure to me. I’d let someone be victimized, let another get away with it. I still wasn’t sure who was the real victim and who was the real perpetrator where Adriana and Ryan were concerned.
And it’s eating me alive.
A soft thunk sounded as Brigit flopped down onto the platform of her enclosure to chew on a toy. It dawned on me that for both of us, work time and playtime had essentially melded into one. She often got to nap or play while working, and I often spent what should be my personal free time mulling over pending investigations.
We rolled up Hulen, approaching Ryan’s apartment complex. While nothing had happened between him or Adriana in a few weeks now, I turned in out of habit. As I circled through the shadowy lot, white reverse lights illuminated on his Camaro across the way. Looked like he was going somewhere. Odd, given that it was midweek and after two A.M.
Had he put another GPS device on Adriana’s car or tracked her in some other way? Was she having another migraine, maybe heading to the pharmacy for more headache medicine? Or was he going to his brother and sister-in-law’s house to help them with Toby? Maybe something had happened, an emergency, and they needed an immediate sitter to watch the tyke. I had no idea what was going on. I could only surmise that, given that Ryan was in his Camaro rather than his truck, it seemed unlikely he was going to help with some type of urgent communications outage.
I decided to follow him. If he was the stalker, maybe I’d finally catch him in the act and get that closure I so desperately sought. If he wasn’t, maybe I’d catch him going to the convenience store for an emergency roll of toilet paper or condoms. For all I knew he had Danielle up in his apartment, or maybe the brown-haired girl from the theater.
He turned out of the parking lot and I followed several seconds behind him, leaving enough space between us that it would be difficult for him to discern that the vehicle behind him was a police cruiser.
I eyed my partner in the rearview mirror. “What do you think he’s up to, Brig?”
She wagged her tail in response, but continued to gnaw the nylon bone I’d bought her a few weeks ago. She found the toy more interesting than speculating on Ryan’s destination and motive for this late-night excursion.
I followed him as he turned right at a red light. Hmm. He was headed in the general direction of Adriana’s place, but we were still too far away for me to say for certain that’s where he was going. There were lots of places he could stop between here and there, lots of places where he might turn and take a freeway instead of the surface streets.
He sped up, exceeding the speed limit by at least fifteen miles per hour. Still, I was more interested in where he was going than in giving him a ticket. If I could finally catch him doing something big and illegal I could put this frustrating investigation to rest.
A couple minutes, three more turns, and one blatant failure to stop for a stop sign later and I knew without a doubt he was headed to Adriana’s house. How? Because he’d careened onto her street and I could see his red brake lights illuminating up ahead and hear the screech as his car skidded to a stop in front of her house.
What the hell was he doing here? Not only did he have a protective order against this woman, but she had one against him, too. He’d also claimed to be afraid Adriana would kill him. Had that been bullshit? Both I and Detective Bustamente had warned him against having any interactions with her. Dammit! Why don’t people do what judges and cops and common sense tell them to?!?
I punched the gas, but Ryan was faster. He bolted from his car and stormed up the steps. I caught a glimpse of Adriana in a short white nightgown before she closed the door behind him.
What the hell just happened?
Are they reconciling, after all the shit one of them has put the other through?
It wouldn’t be the first time a couple had been at each other’s throats one instant and bumping uglies the next. It wouldn’t be the last time, either.
I hopped out of my car and yanked open the door to Brigit’s enclosure, not even taking the time to shut it before giving her the order to stay by my side. The two of us stormed up to the porch. As I approached, my nose caught the acrid scent of petroleum. Brigit scented it, too, her black nose twitching in the air. Holy shit! Is that gasoline?
My mind barely had time to form the thought, when WHOOSH!
I heard the sound of the fire igniting the same instant I saw the flames light up through a gap in the curtains on the front window. Instinctively, I grabbed the door handle but it wouldn’t turn. It was locked. I pounded on the door with both fists. “Adriana! Ryan!”
There was no answer.
I pressed the button on my shoulder-mounted radio. “We need a fire truck immediately!” I screamed into the mic, following with Adriana’s address. “There’s a fire in the house and two people inside! It smells like gasoline!”
The dispatcher’s voice came back as I ran down the steps. “Fire and ambulance units are on the way.”
I ran to the window and tried to see inside. All I could see were red-hot flames. No doubt they were licking at those perfectly arranged bookshelves, the paper providing perfect kindling for the fire.
The smell of gasoline was strong by the window, too. Had Adriana set this fire? Or had Ryan poured gasoline out here earlier, then concocted some ploy to convince her to let him into the house so he could burn it down?
I banged my fists on the window. “Adriana! Ryan!”
There was no response. I wasn’t sure what to do. Despite everything that had happened, I didn’t want either of them to get injured or die. But I didn’t want me or Brigit to get injured or die, either. And my partner and I weren’t equipped to fight a fire.
Or were we?
I grabbed the closest oleander bush and wrangled it aside, my eyes desperately seeking a faucet and hose.
Nothing.
I grabbed the second bush and pushed the limbs aside so I could see. There was a faucet but no hose.
Dammit!
I ran to the side gate and bolted through it, Brigit loping after me. There had to be a second faucet back here somewhere, right? And a hose? Sure! Adriana must use them to water her garden, right?
As Brigit and I ran around the back corner I came face-to-face with Adriana. The clouds broke and a glint of starlight reflected off the Cuisinart cradled in her arms just before momentum carried me forward to collide with her. Our skulls met with a smack! The impact knocked her back on her ass on her patio, and the Cuisinart flew out of her arms, smashing into a dozen pieces on the patio. What looked like sparklers flared at the edges of my vision and I fell to my knees on the concrete. Thump. Damn, that hurt!
It took only a moment for our heads to clear and, when they did, Adriana looked at me, her eyes wild with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Really? That’s how a person reacts when their house is up in flames?
No, I realized a moment later. It’s not.
I knew with absolute certainty then that Adriana had set this fire and that she’d lured Ryan to her house to kill him. My conclusion must have been written on my face because the next thing she did was reach out with a bright pink stun gun. Finally! Some color! Before I could slap her arm away she gave me a solid zzzap!
The jolt seared me to my very core. I slumped over, unable to control a single muscle, falling sideways onto the concrete, my cheekbone hitting the cement with a teeth-rattling smack! My mind screamed to Brigit to watch out, but I couldn’t make my mouth cooperate. But while my body wouldn’t work, my mind did. If that woman hurts Brigit, I will kill her in the most painful way possible. I’ll take my baton and shove it down her throat until it comes out that tight little ass of hers.
After that thought processed, I realized just how much danger Brigit and I were in. This woman had just set fire to a house with a person inside it. She’d have no qualms offing a police officer or a dog, too.
Fear flooded my immobile body. I was helpless. I couldn’t do anything for myself or my partner.
Luckily, Brigit had a mind of her own. While I usually found this trait to be annoying, it served both of us well tonight. Rather than await orders from her disabled handler—me—she made her own decision. And that decision was, I’m going to take down the bitch who hurt my partner.
When Adriana reached toward her with the stun gun, Brigit ducked in the nick of time and grabbed Adriana’s wrist in her teeth, chomping down with all her might. The woman screamed at the top of her lungs and dropped the stun gun onto the patio, where it hit with a loud clack and immediately broke into two pieces among the shards of the food processor. My mind might be rattled, but it was coherent enough to think, There goes the warranty.
Adriana whipped her arm back and forth, but with an enormous dog like Brigit hanging from it, she couldn’t shake it free. “Let go!” she shrieked. “Let go!”
Yeah. Not gonna happen.
Adriana used her free arm to leverage herself to her feet and tried to run, dragging Brigit along with her. As the two wrangled their way down the side of the house, my limbs finally began to cooperate again and I pushed myself up on all fours.
The sound of sirens coming up the street seemed like the song of angels. Hallelujah!
Using a garden gnome for leverage, I got to my feet, a little wobbly still, but at least upright again. Thanks, little guy. I yanked my baton from my belt, flicked my wrist, and it opened with its usual decisive SNAP!
I lumbered after Adriana and Brigit, putting one hand against the outer wall of the house to stabilize myself. I could feel the heat coming from inside. I passed the door that led from the kitchen to the outside. Through the square pane of glass, I saw the café curtains catch fire, the flames eating their way up the fabric.
As I made my way out of the gate to the front yard, I found Adriana lying facedown on the grass with Brigit sitting on top of her, the woman’s arm still clutched in her teeth. I also found a fire truck pulling to a stop in the street. Frankie leaped out of one side of the cab, while Seth leaped out of the other.
“Megan?” they cried in unison.
“Ryan’s inside!” I waved my baton at the house. The fire had breached the ceiling and roof. While it was too dark for me to actually see the smoke billowing out, the fact that a wide swath of the neighborhood and sky were obscured told me there was a lot of it and it was thick. I ran up to Adriana and brought my baton down on the grass next to her face. Whap! “Where is he?” I shrieked. “Where’s Ryan?”
Her shoulders began to heave with sobs. “Last I saw him”—she gasped for air between sobs—“he was on the kitchen floor.”
“Did you zap him?”
“Yes.”
My mind flicked back to the burning café curtains. It would be nothing short of a miracle if the fire hadn’t killed Ryan yet. Hell, he’d probably already succumbed to smoke inhalation. But there was always a chance, right?
“He’s in the kitchen!” I hollered to Frankie, who was bolting for the door. “It’s the second room!”
Two men used a battering ram to break through the locked front door. Bam! Bam! Bam! When the hole was big enough, Frankie ducked through with a mask over her face, disappearing into the cloud of smoke like a magician with a death wish.
My heart contracted so hard in my chest it threatened to implode. Would this be the last time I’d see my friend alive?
I wish I knew, because if it was I would beat Adriana to death with my baton right here on her lawn. I wouldn’t even care if a judge ordered the prison wardens to lock me up and throw away the key. It would be worth it.
While I stood guard over Adriana and Brigit continued to hold her arm in her grip, Seth and the other firefighters scurried about their truck and the yard. In seconds he had a hose in his hand and a steady stream of water aimed into the house. I closed my eyes and prayed it wasn’t too late for Frankie and Ryan. Please, God! Frankie’s a good person and the best human friend I’ve ever had. Don’t take her away. She doesn’t deserve to die! And Ryan … well God, you tell me. I still haven’t figured this all out.
Over the sounds of the fire engine, the forceful spray of the water, and the shouts of the firefighters, another sound came. A sickening sound. A creaking sound.
CREEEEEAK.
I watched in horror as the roof caved in, slowly at first and then gaining momentum. BAM! It fell in completely, leaving behind a jagged, gaping hole trimmed with broken two-by-fours, torn pink insulation, and shingles. Dear God! Has Frankie been crushed to death inside?
My mind went woozy, unable to entertain the thought, and I found myself gulping air in a panic. Uh-uh-uh! The hyperventilation caused my vision to narrow until all I could see was Brigit’s troubled brown eyes watching me. She whimpered, worried.
“Megan!”
Hallelujah! Frankie’s voice was like birdsong in spring. Despite my having skipped that Wednesday mass in favor of wine, the Almighty had not only heard my prayer, He’d also answered it. I turned to see Frankie stumbling along the side of the house I’d just stumbled along. Her mask hung down in front of her, no longer on her face. Slanted across her back was a prone Ryan, and sticking out of his back was the long metal handle of the meat fork I’d seen in Adriana’s dish drainer the first time I’d come to her house.
Yeek.
After reflexively crossing myself—Catholic rituals die hard—I ordered Brigit to continue to guard Adriana while I rushed over to help Frankie. I reached her just as her strength gave out. She collapsed to the ground with Ryan on top of her. In his hand was the Wonder Woman #1 comic, enclosed in a protective plastic sleeve. Looked like he’d been right about Adriana. She had, in fact, taken his prized comic book.
“What do I do?” I cried to Frankie. Please don’t make me pull out that meat fork.
“Get the paramedics over here!” she coughed out.
I ran back to the front of the house and waved my arms over my head as I shouted to the ambulance crew. “Over here! Over here! We’ve got injuries!”
Seth turned my way. “Did she find Ryan?”
“Yes! They’re out!”
His face and posture relaxed in relief and he closed his eyes for a split second. I had a sneaking suspicion he was silently thanking God, too. These types of emergencies tended to make believers out of even the biggest skeptics.
In minutes, the paramedics had oxygen masks on both Ryan and Frankie and were loading Ryan into the back of the ambulance. He was unconscious, his clothing was singed, and one leg appeared badly burned and bloody, but at least he was still breathing on his own. There was a chance he could survive. If he did, he was sure to need all kinds of work on the leg, skin grafts and the like, but maybe the doctors could save it.
Frankie climbed into an ambulance, too. My eyes met hers over her mask and I raised a hand in encouragement and support as the doors of the second ambulance swung shut on her. As the vehicle pulled away from the curb, the driver activated the siren.
Neighbors had swarmed out of their houses and gathered in a driveway across the street to watch the activity. As I turned back to the house, I noticed the comic book lying on the grass. I ran over and snatched it up before it could be soaked by the hose or trampled by the firefighters.
Returning to Adriana and Brigit, I ordered Brigit off the woman, but instructed her to continue to stand guard. When Brigit released her hold, blood ran from Adriana’s arm and Brigit’s jowls. It wasn’t Brigit’s fault. If Adriana hadn’t struggled, she wouldn’t have been injured so badly. Before I could wipe the blood from Brigit’s mouth, she licked it off herself. The sight made my stomach seize. Ehhhh.
I radioed for another ambulance for Adriana, as well as backup that could keep an eye on her in the ambulance and hospital until she was released into the custody of the Fort Worth Police Department to be booked and charged. Her bite wounds were deep, but given that she’d just attempted to murder her ex-boyfriend, she had no right to complain.
Minutes later, Summer and Derek Mackey arrived. Summer pulled her cruiser to the curb across the street and the two of them climbed out.
Summer, being the sweet person that she was, rushed over, her eyes bright with concern. “My gosh, Megan! What happened here? Are you all right?”
Derek, living up to his nickname of “the Big Dick,” sauntered up. He eyed me and nudged Adriana with his toe. “Party get out of hand?”
Both of us chose to ignore him.
To Summer, I said, “I spotted Ryan Downey leaving his apartment and followed him here. Before I could get to the door the house went up in flames. Adriana ran out with a stun gun and zapped me.”
“Ha!” Derek barked, slapping his thigh in delight. “You got shocked? Hoo-ah! That’s some poetic justice right there.” He skewered me with his glare. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it, Luz?”
I supposed I deserved that. Getting zapped by the stun gun had been no fun at all, and the Taser I’d used on Derek packed even more punch. But just because I deserved his verbal spanking didn’t mean I would take it graciously. “Shut up, Derek.”
He merely cackled in response. Adriana had made his day.
I gestured to the woman. “She’s got some bite wounds that’ll need treatment. One of you will need to accompany her in the ambulance and keep watch on her at the hospital until she’s released into custody.”
“I’ll do it,” Mackey said.
His offer didn’t surprise me. He was a brave guy, but he was also a lazy one. He’d probably much rather sit around a hospital drinking sodas and playing games on his phone than patrolling the streets of Fort Worth.
He looked down at Adriana. “Let’s move, Little Match Girl.”
When he made no move to help her up, she used her good arm to push herself up to a stand. As she turned to walk to the ambulance, she took one last look at the house.
I couldn’t help myself. “Say good-bye to your security deposit.”
She sent me a heated glower that packed nearly as many volts as her stun gun. Seemed eye contact was no problem for her now. I only hoped that she didn’t spend her time in jail plotting vengeance against me and Brigit.
When the last of the flames fizzled, Adriana’s house stood smoldering, a huge black hole in the roof, its front door smashed in, and its floors flooded. Evidently alerted by a neighbor, the owner of the house drove up and climbed out of his car to assess the damage.
“My goodness!” The gray-haired man shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell happened here?”
“A bad breakup,” I said, “some stalking, a little bit of arson, and a whole lot of attempted murder.”
* * *
The next few days brought many developments and some information that finally helped us see things clearly.
Adriana was treated for the bite wounds and prescribed an antibiotic to prevent infection. A physical therapist ran her through some tests and determined Brigit’s bite had resulted in no permanent injury, though Adriana would likely have bite scars for the rest of her life, a little souvenir from the night she’d gone bat-shit. Perhaps they’d serve as a constant reminder not to cross a K-9 or her partner.
She was released into the custody of the Fort Worth PD and charged with a variety of offenses ranging from attempted murder and battery to arson and stalking. The judge denied bail and ordered Adriana to undergo therapy to treat her mental health issues.
After a psychological evaluation and consultation with her defense attorney, Adriana determined it was in her best interests to come clean and hope that her diagnosis as one who suffered from a personality disorder might get her a reduced sentence. At the behest of both her attorney and her therapist, she admitted that she’d attacked Ryan at his truck weeks ago, causing the scratch marks on his neck. Her claims that he’d been into kinky sex were made up. Though he had a healthy sexual appetite, his desires were not the things pornos were made of.
She admitted that she’d stolen the brick and shoes from Ryan’s front porch, and had used them to break her window and fake the footprint on her patio. She also admitted that she’d been the woman with the gift bag and balloons who’d tried to gain access to Ryan’s apartment. She’d seen Danielle’s picture on Ryan’s Facebook page, and had dressed to look like her in the hopes it would throw off suspicion if the plan didn’t work. She’d hoped to get inside and wait for Ryan to come home, then attempt a reconciliation. A stupid plan, at best. What man would want to reconcile with a woman who’d snuck into his house uninvited and disguised? How could he ever trust her?
She admitted that she’d placed the GPS units on both his car and her own. She’d placed the one on his car first so that she could track his comings and goings. She then realized that she’d look guilty if the device were found on his car, so she’d placed one on her own as well, to confuse the issue. She said she’d been surprised I’d thought to look for the devices. She hadn’t thought I was all that smart. Grr. I showed her, didn’t I?
She also admitted to stealing Ryan’s Wonder Woman #1 comic book and using it to lure him to her house the night of the fire. She’d phoned him from an untraceable burner phone and told him if he wanted it back he needed to come to her house immediately or she was going to put the comic in her food processor and julienne the busty superheroine on maximum speed until Wonder Woman was nothing more than red, white, and blue confetti.
Ryan was less forthcoming, but an electronic device we recovered told the tale he wouldn’t. After seeing the story of Adriana and Ryan on the news, a call came in from one of Interstellar Communications’ customers who’d recently had Ryan at their house to install new service. When they’d gone to use their new promotional tablet, they’d been surprised to discover a photo of a pretty young Latina woman on the device. Being an older couple with no great knowledge of electronics, they’d assumed the photo was a placeholder or sample, akin to the glossy paper photos placed in physical frames at stores. But when they’d seen Adriana’s and Ryan’s pictures on the evening news, they recognized Ryan as their installer and Adriana as the woman in the photo on their tablet.
Ryan had evidently used the promotional tablet, his technical know-how, and Adriana’s credentials to remotely log in to the rehab center’s Wi-Fi and upload the profile of Adriana to Kinky Cowtown. While he’d wiped the remote login from the browser history and deleted the remote desktop app, he’d forgotten about the picture. Dumbass. Still, I could hardly blame him for pulling the stunt. Few people wouldn’t consider retribution against someone who had tried to frame them the way Adriana had tried to frame Ryan, and had tried to get access to their home to do who knows what. The assistant district attorney evidently felt the same way, that Adriana had got what she had coming to her, and declined to file charges against Ryan. A judge also revoked the protective order Adriana had gotten against him.
Ryan was treated for smoke inhalation and burns. Luckily for him, the meat fork had missed all of his vital organs. Once the fire had been fully extinguished, another gun was found on the floor of Adriana’s kitchen. He’d brought it with him when coming to retrieve his comic book. But, again, it was hard to blame him for feeling the need to protect himself. His former lover had indeed become a crazy ex-girlfriend.
The investigation was finally over and the case was closed. Though I wished we could have figured things out sooner, I knew both Adriana and Ryan had been careful and crafty so as to not be discovered. Detective Bustamente said any stalking case that didn’t end with a dead body was a victory, and congratulated me on saving Ryan’s life. He also insisted I take that vacation I’d been dreaming about.
He didn’t have to tell me twice.