Ty stared up at the building, a six-story brownstone with an ornate metal entrance, three blocks from the ocean in Santa Monica. It was going to be difficult to get inside the building, never mind the apartment, especially at this time of day. That was why he’d come up with an alternative plan. One that may have been short on subtlety, but scored high on impact.
A well-heeled couple in their forties, residents by the looks of them, walked towards the entrance. They were in workout clothes, although neither looked to have broken much of a sweat.
They eyed Ty with suspicion as he pulled out his bundle of flyers.
“Excuse me,” said Ty. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
The guy waved him off, patting his pockets. “Sorry, buddy, I don’t have any change.”
“I’m not panhandling, brother,” said Ty, mock offended and making sure they couldn’t easily step around him.
“We’re kind of in a hurry,” said the woman, shooting a nervy look at her male companion.
Ty handed them one of his freshly printed flyers. On it was a picture of Hanger. Above the picture, in large lettering, it read: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN? Below the picture read, WANTED FOR CHILD SEX TRAFFICKING. Then there was a phone number.
The woman took it without looking at it. “Thanks,” she said with a tight smile, moving to step around him and get to the entrance.
Ty shifted over a step. “Look at it,” he said. “It’s important.”
She glanced down.
“Listen, we don’t want any trouble,” said the guy.
“All the more reason you should look at it too,” said Ty. “In fact, don’t just look, read what it says back to me. Do that and I’ll get out of your way.”
The exchange had gotten tense. Ty felt bad. They were just two people trying to get back into their apartment after yoga or a run on the beach or whatever rich white people did that passed for exercise.
“Listen, buddy, I’m not reading it back to you. Now, do you want me to call the cops?”
As the guy argued, the woman started to study it.
“Oh my God, Lawrence,” she blurted out, jabbing a finger at the picture. “This guy lives here.”
Lawrence looked down at the flyer. His expression shifted from one of annoyance to one tinged with skeptical concern.
Ty took a step back. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to come off rude like that. It’s just that, I don’t know, you may have children living around here.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lawrence. “Anyone renting or buying here has to undergo a background check before the coop board approve them.”
Ty had no idea if Hanger had ever been convicted. He doubted it. He’d probably been arrested a bunch of times, maybe even convicted on lesser charges, if at all. But if he’d been found guilty of trafficking, it was unlikely he’d still be out here doing what he was doing to kids like Kristin.
“Sometimes people slip through the cracks, or people miss things when they run checks,” said Ty.
The guy wasn’t buying it. The woman was more concerned. Women were usually more tuned in to stuff like this. A lot of men’s instant reaction was one of disbelief. If you didn’t have to spend your whole life dealing with creeps, you were less likely to understand how many of them there were out there.
“Listen, I’m not a cop. I’m just helping out a family whose daughter got tangled up with this man,” said Ty. “She’s only fourteen.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” the woman said.
Ty thought about it.
“I’d really like to be able to put one of these in each of your neighbors’ mailboxes. If you could let me in to do that, that would be great.”
“I don’t know,” said Lawrence.
Counting out a few dozen flyers, Ty held them out to him. “Or, if you’re not comfortable, maybe you could do it for me.”
That seemed to do the trick. The guy pushed away the fistful of flyers like they were a bomb. He clearly did not want to get involved.
He stepped back. “Why don’t you go ahead and do it. But you have to leave after you’ve done it. This is a quiet building, we don’t want any trouble.”
“I understand completely,” said Ty. “No trouble.”
“And you’re positive he’s guilty, because, you know, if he’s not then you could be in a lot of legal trouble.”
If there was one thing Ty knew about a piece of shit like Hanger, it was that they enjoyed attention about as much as a cockroach enjoyed the beam of a flashlight. Sure, Hanger could try to sue him for libel, but that would involve going to court, and court was the last place that someone like this wanted to be anywhere near.
“Don’t worry,” Ty reassured the couple. “I’m a hundred percent.”
“Okay then,” said Lawrence, still not convinced.
Ty stepped out of the way and followed them up the short flight of stone stairs, through the gate, and into the cool, stone floor lobby area.
“Thanks for your help,” said Ty, walking over to the mailboxes as the couple made for the elevator. “Oh, I probably don’t want to drop one of these in his mailbox. You know that trouble thing you wanted to avoid.”
“Three C,” said the woman.
“Thanks,” said Ty, waiting until the elevator doors closed before heading to the stairwell.