by D. A. Brown
"Hey Donna let me call you back." Sophia hung up and looked at Stinson. His mouth was tight.
“That's not your call, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy. I pay your salary.”
Sophia put her hand on Stinson’s arm.
“See, Stinson. No harm, no foul, right?” Troy straightened up and hoisted his backpack. “They don’t wanna do nothing about it.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I say you are.” Stinson pushed Troy back against the car.
“We got a history, Stinson. I threw you some good stuff back in the day.” Troy chewed on his thumbnail.
"Let's get a car here and at least run him for warrants.” The dance was about to start. Delicate and unpredictable, it was always Sophia’s job to run interference and keep them both from another internal investigations beef. But Stinson was nearing the end of a very long rope. The less contact he had with an unappreciative public, the better.
“I’m not putting him in a patrol car. He shit himself." Stinson said.
"Jesus Christ." Sophia looked at the couple. They both put their hands to their mouths.
Stinson pulled Troy away from the car and shoved him toward the couple. “He’s your problem then. You don’t care, I don’t care.” Tommy pointed at the restaurant. “I’m going back in to have another cup of coffee.”
Troy scurried down the sidewalk, pulling up his pants and yanking on his backpack straps. He looked back twice before jaywalking across Olive Way and disappearing into a side street.
Sophia leaned over, and made eye contact with the female, who sat gingerly in the front seat, fragments of broken glass clinging to the headrest. “You’re sure about this?”
The car sped away before she could answer.
Back in the restaurant, Sophia sat down and took a sip of lukewarm coffee.
“What was that all about?”
Tommy squinted out the window and shrugged.
“I’m out of fucks.”
“Clearly.”
The bags under Tommy’s eyes were fuller than usual. He looked exhausted. An hour ago, he was giving her a pep talk in her kitchen and practically begging her to run with him.
“Are you OK?”
“Let’s go.” Tommy stood up and threw down a five for a tip.
Sophia finished her coffee and grabbed her bag, quickstepping to keep up with Tommy as he headed to the car.
Tommy pulled into traffic and got onto I-5 north. He turned on the radio. The Eagles ’Hotel California’ hummed softly from the speakers.
“Did you notice how that waitress looked at you?”
“No. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“She was totally checking you out.”
“Stop it, Tommy.”
“Maybe you should consider batting for the other team since you’re striking out with mine.”
“I’m just fine on the bench right now.”
“Just sayin’.”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“You do know that Vance is gay, right?”
“What?” Sophia turned and looked at Tommy.
“No, she’s not.”
“Yep. Certified.”
“How would you know?”
“Let’s say I have friends in all places.” He winked at Sophia. “I don’t have a problem with it. Do you?”
“Of course not. I just didn’t get the…”
“Maybe you don’t have as finely tuned gaydar as me.”
Sophia laughed. Her own ingrained homophobia had tricked her before. Jess did not fit a stereotype. She was tall and lean with shoulder length blonde hair. She dressed out of the high end of Nordstrom's and wore a diamond encrusted Tag Heuer watch and a simple white gold band on her ring finger. For the first month she worked in the squad, Sophia assumed she was married.
“Well, good for her.” She reached for her work bag. “And there’s nothing wrong with my gaydar.”
Sophia pulled out her file and double checked an address. She confirmed that Grace Halifax’s brother, Barrett Halifax, attended Lakeside, a private school in north Seattle.
“Don’t you think you should have changed into a suit, Tommy?” Sexual assault detectives were expected to wear suits and ties, unlike other plainclothes units, where almost anything was acceptable.
Stinson ignored her question and swerved around a Ford Escort straddling two lanes on I-5, driven by an old man.
"I just don't get people like those two outside of Glos, I really don't. I mean, I'm all about compassion, but do they have any idea that they've prolonged that kid’s pathetic descent? At least if he'd gone to jail, he would have gotten three hots and a cot. He's just gonna head around the block and bust another poor schmuck's window." Stinson turned on the air conditioning.
Sophia nodded but her mind was a million miles away. David's visit had rattled her. She swore that had she passed him on the street she'd never have given him a second look. His reappearance unsettled her carefully crafted life without personal chaos.
Stinson took the North 145th street exit and headed west. The school was just off the freeway, tucked inside a modest neighborhood and shrouded in tall evergreens.
“I don’t think I’ve been here before.” Sophia glanced around the campus at the Colonial red brick buildings with their crisp white trimmed windows. “Very nice.”
“My close, personal friend, Bill Gates is an alumni.”
“Really? I didn’t know he was he was a friend.” Sophia smiled as Stinson rolled the car to a stop in a faculty parking spot. He looked over at the gaggle of students milling around a black BMW 325i.
"Bet that's your boy. Rich kid with a Beemer.” He nodded in the direction of a blond kid leaning against the driver's door. The window was down and Skrillex blasted from the stereo. Barrett Halifax wore dark blue pants, the crease settling perfectly atop his Nike Lebrons. His white polo shirt was partially tucked into his pants. Several teenaged boys stood in front of him laughing and fidgeting despite the impressive size of their backpacks.
“Ten bucks says as soon as we move in, the rest of those mutts are going to bounce,” Stinson said.
Sophia opened the door and stepped out of the car. Teenagers were not her forte and she firmly believed that they sensed her unease, like Bodhi sensed fear. The group looked over and Barrett reached in to turn down the stereo. Two boys nodded at him and ambled off.
“We’re looking for Barrett Halifax.”
Barrett looked at Stinson and then back at Sophia. “That’s me.”
“I’m Detective Benedetti. This is my partner Detective Stinson. We'd like to talk to you for a minute."
"I've got class in a few. Can you come back later?" He shifted from side to side, fumbling with his car keys.
Stinson leaned in to talk to him. "Your class can wait. We cleared it with the principal.”
“Shouldn't my dad be here or something?"
"You're not a suspect, Barrett. Just a witness." Sophia touched his arm. "Let's go sit in our car so we can talk privately."
He pulled away from her.
“Relax, Chief. We’re not hooking you up, just having a friendly chat,” Stinson said.
Barrett walked ahead of them, pausing to press the lock button on his key fob.
Stinson opened the door to the backseat. "Why don't you slide in there.”
Barrett glanced toward the school and then bent over and plopped into the backseat of the car, his legs bumping up against the driver’s seat.
Sophia got into the passenger seat and shifted forward, tilting her head so she could see him. “We just wanted to go over a few things, and then we'll have you come in for a formal statement. I figured you'd be a little more comfortable not talking about all of this in front of your parents."
"I'm not crazy about talking to anyone about it." Barrett clenched his hands, then rubbed them on his pant legs.
"You hot? I can roll down the windows if you want." Stinson put the keys in the ignition and cranked up the a
ir conditioner.
"Yeah, thanks."
"So, why don't you tell us how you came to find the pictures" Sophia pulled a legal pad out of her bag.
"Some guys at my school told me about this website. It's this site for LARPs. They thought it was totally lame and messed up..."
"LARPs? What the hell is that?" Stinson turned around.
“Live action role playing. You know, the losers that dress up as superheroes and go out and film themselves doing stupid shit. We thought one of our classmates was into that, and I was curious. They’re the same guys that are into RPG’s.” He paused. “Role playing games.”
"Well, was he? I mean, it’s not illegal.” Sophia looked at Barrett.
“It’s just generally for dorks, that’s all. I couldn't really tell. He's a weird dude. Very much into geek speak and goth shit. He's a loner. We all figure he'll go all Columbine one of these days."
"Does the loser have a name?"
"Jared Poppins." Barrett looked at Stinson. "Yeah, like the movie.”
"Well, that explains his attitude problem.” Stinson shifted in his seat. “So how does this fit with the pictures of your sister?" Stinson looked at Barrett in the rear view mirror.
“There was this thing on the sidebar." Barrett looked out the window.
"And..." Sophia glanced up from her notes.
"And it had this really hot chick who looked my age in this picture and I clicked on it."
"Like any red blooded American guy would do." Stinson said as he followed a young, attractive woman walking across the parking lot.
"It went to this webpage that had these weird content warnings. I didn't really think much about it."
"Who would?"
"I know, right?” Barrett said. “Anyway, I clicked through it and all these images came up. Mostly run of the mill pussy shots."
Sophia rolled her eyes and kept on writing.
“And I thought, well this is boring and so I kept clicking through the site. And then I saw it."
"Saw what?" Sophia seemed to snap him out of his pornographic trance.
"Sorry, I..."
"Keep going." Sophia poked Stinson on the arm with her pen. He was far too engrossed in the stray co-ed running late for class.
"I saw the link for New World."
"Oh, for chrissakes. What the hell is that now?" Stinson turned around again.
"New World. It's like Second Life..." He glanced at Stinson and Sophia. "...a virtual world where you create an avatar and live your fantasy." He ran his hands through his hair and put his head against the backseat head rest. "I guess that's what you do. I don't really know anyone who's into it. It's kind of for people who don't have much of a real life, I guess."
"You sure guess a lot," Stinson looked over at Sophia.
"I'm telling you what I know.” Barrett crossed his arms and looked down.
Sophia tapped her pen on the pad. “Then what happened?”
"I just started clicking around and I found this area on the site called the Playground and I went in there."
"And...?"
"And there were all these avatars that looked like kids, and they were just kind of hanging around this place that looked like a water slide or some amusement park kind of thing. I don't know what it was, exactly. And then a chat window popped up and some guy asked me if I was there to play."
“Did this guy have a name?"
"I don't remember. I got really creeped out. He asked me if I was a cop."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I didn't answer at first. I just waited. And then he asked again and I said no. Then he sent me a jpeg."
"A jay pig? What's a jay pig? And what the hell is an avatar? I’m sorry, but Jesus Christ.” Stinson stepped out of the car and took off his jacket.
”A jpeg. J-P-E-G. It's a digital image. A picture. And an avatar is kinda like a digital representation of what you want to look like on the Internet.”
"And what was the picture of?"
"Of a girl, like someone, my age. She looked kinda virtual, not real. And I thought, OK this is a little weird but whatever..."
Sophia shifted her weight. Her back was still stiff from her last run and her hamstrings were tight.
“He started asking me if I wanted a playmate and I thought he was, you know, talking about a chick my age or something, and I said I was just looking around. Then he sent me his email address and told me to write him if I came back. He said he was sort of an unofficial greeter at the playground and would be happy to introduce me to others."
"And that was it?" Sophia’s pen paused over the paper.
“That time, yeah."
"And the next time? When was that?"
"A couple of days later. I went to school the next day and told a couple of the guys and they thought it was cool that I got in and they wanted to check it out so we logged in on one of the guy's netbooks. That same guy was in there and one of my friends started goofing on him. I think he got spooked. And then another friend typed in my email address as a joke…”
"Did he write to you?" Stinson asked.
"Yeah, like that night. I tried to Google his address to see if could find him. You know, to see if he was really who he said he was. But it just came back to New World. I figured maybe he was an admin or something."
"Do you remember the email address?"
"It's on my Dad's computer. The one the cops took. It was something like'playing with fire at yahoo dot com.' There could have been a number in there."
Barrett stretched out his right leg. "How much longer do I have to sit back here?"
Stinson looked over at Sophia. “Why were you on your dad’s computer? Don’t you have your own?”
“Yeah, I have my own, but I dropped it in the pool last week.”
“Of course you did.”
“We need you to get to the part where you saw your sister." Sophia turned up the fan.
“A couple days later, he sent me another email."
"What was in the first email, the one he sent you the first night?"
"He just asked me why I gave him my email address, if I thought he was a loser. That's what my friend Josh had written in the chat room. I wrote him back and told him that my friend wrote the stuff about being a loser. I figured that was going to be the end of it. Then he wrote me again and invited me to what he called a 'members only' thing at the playground. He said if I was into pretty girls, I'd like it. He gave me a temporary password and username to get in. He said he was cool with people goofing on him.”
“We’re going to need that username and password. Do you still have them?” She looked back at him. He didn't want to talk about his sister. She couldn't blame him. She hadn't really liked the kid. She thought he was a privileged asshole who got busted looking at porn that turned out to feature his little sister. But now he was starting to seem more sympathetic.
“I know this is hard, Barrett. We’re almost done.”
“I don’t think so. It was just a bunch of letters and numbers. Nothing I would have remembered anyway.”
Barrett looked up at Stinson. “I didn't think any of it was illegal. So he sent me the link and that night I went in and kind of walked around..."
Stinson piped in. "Walked around where?"
"Not really ‘walk’ around. Like, my avatar walked around in the playground. In New World."
Stinson closed his eyes and sighed.
"Go on..." Sophia said. Barrett might as well have been speaking Chinese.
”So I went in and there were like all of these rooms. No one really talked to me except this one guy."
"The email guy?”
“Not the email guy. At least I don’t think it was the same guy. His avatar looked like a surfer dude. He asked me if I was a cop, too."
"That should have been a clue," Stinson murmured.
”I guess I'm sort of stupid when it comes to some things."
"Go on Barrett. You're doing a great job." Sophia flipped over another page a
nd scribbled the words “we need him to get to the point” and showed it to Tommy.
“He said the area we were in was kind of like a video game and that you could win stuff if you figured out what door went where and that kind of stuff and I thought that was cool."
"So you thought you'd crack a code to some pussy, basically." Stinson leaned over the seat.
"Yeah, I guess.” Perspiration beaded up along Barrett’s hairline and ran down the side of his face.
"So I followed this guy into this one room, and it had all these doors, and he said ‘Hey, figure it out.’ I'm kind of a gamer so it didn't take me long to get through a few levels and I think he was surprised. And I get to this one room and the door opens and there's like this kid, this little girl on a swing and she looks like Grace." Barrett looked out to the parking lot.
"Keep going. We're almost done."
"The girl, Gracie, she talked to me. And I started to freak out ‘cause she looked so much like my sister, and I thought I was being punked or something. She told me to click on this flower that was near the swing set, and I did, and that's when the pictures popped up on the screen."
“What sort of pictures?” Sophia stopped writing.
"They just started filling the screen, like they wouldn't stop, and I was panicking. They were horrible. They were of my sister. She was naked." Barrett started to shake.
“The guy, he sent me a chat that said, ‘You like? There’s more’ and I wrote back that he was a fucking pervert and I said the girl was my sister and then the screen went black. Like he was controlling the computer. And then it just fucking shut off.”
"I'm going to be sick. I have to go." He pushed open the back door and jumped from the car, sprinting for the front stairs of the school.
"That went well," Stinson said. "Let's get out of here before the principal calls his dad."
Some days Sophia really hated her job.
CHAPTER EIGHT
North Seattle faded behind them as Stinson headed south on the freeway. There were seven messages on Sophia’s phone. It had been vibrating endlessly while she interviewed Barrett. She was certain that there was a family emergency or something had happened to Bodhi. But none of the numbers were familiar. The first voicemail was from radio. The dispatcher was asking if they wanted to clear the call from earlier. Three other voicemails were unintelligible, the audio cutting in and out so frequently, she couldn’t make out enough to piece together the message. The fifth message wasVictoria Tilden calling to say she now wished to “lodge a complaint against the rapscallion who'd attempted to spoil my good character.”