Enforcing the Paw

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Enforcing the Paw Page 11

by Diane Kelly


  Brigit and I returned to the gas station and informed the owner that we hadn’t been able to find the guy. “Sorry. He’s a slippery sucker.” I cringed at my unintentional pun.

  “You gave it your best shot,” he said. “Thanks for trying.” Our business done, he turned back to the display of motor oil he was stacking.

  Brigit and I set back out on patrol. Just after four o’clock, my cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. Finally.

  It wasn’t the parents of the boy with the braces and blue bands, though. It was Ryan. He sounded pissed off and then some. “Adriana tried to get into my apartment today while I was at work. That woman is crazy!”

  “Are you at home now?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Stay put. I’m on my way.” Looked like Brigit and I might be putting in some overtime.

  I circled through the lot and headed back out, aiming for Ryan’s place. When I arrived, he was standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me.

  I climbed out of the car, leaving the windows down for Brigit.

  Before I even reached him, Ryan launched into a tirade. “Adriana showed up here today. She tried to get the maintenance guy to let her into my apartment. She had a bunch of balloons and told him she wanted to surprise me for my birthday.”

  “Happy birthday,” I said.

  He threw up his hands. “That’s the point! It’s not my birthday! She just said that to have a reason to try to get into my place.”

  Well, then. Consider my birthday wish retracted. “How do you know all this?”

  “He told me.” Ryan pointed across the lot to the mailbox area, where a burly man wielding a can of WD-40 was spraying hinges that had evidently become sticky. “That’s him right there.”

  “I’ll go have a chat with him.” As I turned to go, Ryan began to come along with me. I held up a hand to stop him. “You wait here.”

  “Why?” Ryan asked.

  Because I want to ask the guy some questions he might not answer honestly if you’re standing there, that’s why. But I couldn’t say that to Ryan, so instead I went with, “Protocol.” You can’t argue with protocol, right?

  Ryan stood at the curb behind me as I walked through the lot. When I passed by the cruiser, Brigit pawed at the metal mesh of her enclosure, letting me know she didn’t appreciate being left out of the action. “I’ll be right back, girl,” I promised her.

  I continued across the lot and approached the man. He wore navy blue work pants, a light blue polo shirt, and a layer of sweat and grime that told me he’d had a busy day. “Good evening, sir.”

  He turned his face my way. “Hello there, Officer.”

  “Mr. Downey said someone approached you today about getting into his apartment?”

  “That’s right.” A burst of wind blew past just as he went to spray another hinge. The greasy mist ended up all over the front of the mailboxes. “Cheese and grits! Would you look at that mess? This wind’s giving me fits today.” He used a dirty rag to wipe away the excess lubricant and knelt down to stuff both the rag and the can in a toolbox before standing again and turning fully to address me. “A woman came by with a bunch of red helium balloons and a big gift bag stuffed with tissue paper. She asked if I would let her into apartment 206. She said it was her brother’s birthday and she wanted to surprise him by leaving the present and balloons.”

  “But you didn’t let her in.”

  “No, ma’am,” he said. “Could’ve gotten fired if I had. I told her to go the front office and talk to the people there, let them decide.”

  “Did she do that?”

  “Far as I know.” He shrugged. “She headed in that direction so I’m guessing she did. But I was busy replacing some broken sprinkler heads in the lawn so I didn’t pay much attention.”

  “What did the woman look like?”

  “She was wearing high heels and a tight black dress.”

  “How tall was she?”

  The man shrugged. “About average, I guess.”

  Adriana was a little on the short side, but with heels on she’d appear taller, so his response didn’t rule her out.

  “What about her hair?” I asked.

  “It was blond,” he said. “Hung down to about here.” He used his index finger to point to a spot along his bicep.

  Blond hair, huh? Hmm. Was the woman who’d come by Ryan’s Beautiful Blond Boo? Or had it been Adriana in a wig? Maybe Adriana had seen the recent pics of Ryan and the blonde on his Facebook page and tried to make herself look like the woman.

  “What about her eyes?” I asked.

  “Couldn’t tell,” he said. “She was wearing a pair of great big sunglasses.” He formed circles with his index fingers and thumbs and held them up to his face.

  The big glasses might have been her way of trying to hide her identity. Then again, the sun was out in full force today, hardly a cloud in the sky. Maybe the woman was simply protecting her eyes from glare.

  “What about her skin tone?” I asked.

  “From what I recall she seemed to have a nice tan.”

  “Was it a tan?” I asked for clarification. “Or was she naturally brown?

  “How do you tell the difference?”

  “Good question.” Moving on, then. “How would you describe her build?”

  He looked a little uncomfortable. “I know you want me to be honest, so I’ll just come out and say it even if it’s not polite in mixed company. She was stacked.”

  “Stacked” definitely did not describe Adriana. With her thin build, she was probably an A cup at most. But all it would take is two sizable wads of tissue paper or a couple of the helium balloons to make a woman’s breasts appear much larger than reality.

  “Anything else you remember?” I asked. “Did she have a distinctive voice, maybe, or any distinguishing characteristics?”

  “She had a tattoo around her wrist,” he said. “A circle of red hearts.”

  I’d noticed no such tattoo on Adriana. She didn’t seem like the type to get a tattoo. She was too uptight. Of course I hardly knew the woman and might be making incorrect assumptions. Could it have been a henna tattoo? Something she’d drawn on with a marker? Maybe a tight bracelet the maintenance worker had mistaken for a tattoo? These alternatives seemed less likely. “Any chance she gave you a name?”

  “Not that I recall. I only remember her saying she was the sister of the guy in 206.”

  I knew Ryan had a brother. He’d said so when he’d identified Toby as his brother’s son the first time I’d met him. But did he have a sister, too? “What time did this take place?” I asked.

  “Around twelve-thirty, I’d say,” the man said. “I’d just come off my lunch break.”

  “Have you seen the woman around here before?”

  “Not that I remember,” he said. “If she’d come around here dressed like that, I think I’d remember.”

  The guy was a hound, but at least he seemed to be telling the truth. I had to give him that. “Did you see what kind of car she was driving?”

  “No. Once we were done talking I got back to work and didn’t see her again.”

  I lowered my voice. “Have there been any other issues with Mr. Downey?”

  “Issues?” His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  I raised a noncommittal shoulder. “Problems between him and another tenant. Coming and going at strange hours. Anything at all out of the ordinary.”

  “I don’t know if this is what you’re going for,” he said, “but he has blown a fuse a time or two when he’s been fooling around with some type of electronics or another. He seems to like his gadgets. ’Course I can’t blame him. I enjoy tinkering with stuff, too. But other than that nothing’s caught my attention.”

  I retrieved my notepad from my breast pocket, jotted down the information he’d given me, and took down his name and cell number in case I had further questions later. “Thanks for the information.”

  He nodded, picked up his toolbox, and set o
ff.

  I returned to Ryan.

  “What did he tell you?” he asked.

  “Same thing he told you earlier,” I said. “Blond girl with red balloons and a gift bag.” My mind went back to what Adriana had alleged about Ryan’s sexual fetishes. I angled my head and eyed him. “Do you have a sister?”

  “No,” he replied. “Just one brother.”

  “Is there any chance the woman could’ve been someone other than Adriana? Maybe your sister-in-law, Toby’s mother?”

  “My sister-in-law isn’t blond. Besides, she wouldn’t bring me balloons. She’s been mad at me since I slept with her cousin.”

  Sheesh. “Could it have been the cousin?”

  He shook his head. “She’s not blond, either.”

  “Have you had any other bad breakups?” I asked. “Or maybe it was someone who wanted to surprise you in a good way and figured the birthday story would be the easiest way to get in.” Maybe one of those hookers Adriana had mentioned? Of course she’d admitted she had no evidence he was a john. It was mere speculation on her part. But I had to admit I could see it. This guy gave off an overtly sexual vibe. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

  “I’ve been seeing a girl since Adriana.” He smirked. “She’s a blonde, but the carpet doesn’t match the drapes, if you know what I mean.”

  Oh, I know what you mean, all right. No pun intended, but why beat around the bush? I was tired of Ryan’s innuendo. Let’s just get it out in the open, shall we? “You mean that you have engaged in a sexual activity with this woman which enabled you to observe the hair growing in her pubic area and that it was not the same color as the hair on her head.”

  “Jeez!” His face contorted in disgust. “But yeah, that’s what I meant.”

  If anyone should be disgusted here, it was me. I was the one being forced to deal with an oversexed man-child. “Do you think this woman with the mismatched drapes might have been the one who came by with the balloons?”

  “I doubt it,” he replied.

  I knew I shouldn’t, but I just couldn’t help myself. “So she didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about you afterward?”

  “It’s not that!” he snapped. “It’s just that we’re keeping it casual. You know how it is.”

  No, I didn’t know. I wasn’t frigid, but sex for me had never been a casual thing. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how someone could relax and enjoy themselves if they didn’t know their partner reasonably well. I’d be too afraid of undisclosed diseases or hidden cameras, of finding naked pics of myself scattered all over the Internet.

  “Can I get her name and cell number?”

  He frowned. “You really need to call her?”

  “I need to rule out all the possibilities.”

  “I could just ask her myself. Save you the trouble.”

  Gee. How nice of you to think of me. “If she wanted to surprise you, she might not tell you the truth,” I said. Besides, unless I was party to that conversation, I wouldn’t trust Ryan to tell me the truth about her response, either. I wanted to hear things straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

  He seemed hesitant, but gave me the information I asked for. “I guess she wouldn’t mind. Her name’s Danielle Griffin.” He pulled out his phone, accessed his contacts list, and rattled off a phone number. “I hope getting a call from the cops doesn’t scare her off.” His lips spread in a lecherous grin. “She’s a lot of fun, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes,” I said. “You mean you enjoy engaging in sexual relations with her.”

  He muttered another “Jeez,” as if I were the one being uncouth here. Don’t start something you don’t want me to finish.

  “Do you happen to have any pics of Danielle?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve got a few.”

  He fiddled with his phone for a moment, then held up the screen, showing me a photo of him and a pretty blonde. It was a selfie taken from above. She had her glossy lips pursed and her elbows crooked inward to plump up her cleavage, which was nearly falling out of her tight, low-cut red blouse. Again, I was hit with the thought that this girl, like Adriana, appeared out of Ryan’s league.

  He scrolled through the pics, showing me some others clearly taken after they’d had their romp in the hay. In the latter photos, her makeup was smudgy and her hair was mussed. I figured she’d been more likely to look like she had in the selfie when she’d come by the complex, so I instructed him to text me the picture and gave him my phone number. A few seconds later my phone pinged as the picture arrived.

  “Did you show this picture to the maintenance man?” I asked. “See if he could identify the woman with the balloons as Danielle?”

  “No,” he said. “It didn’t occur to me to do that.”

  “Okay. I’ll check with him. But before I do, we need to make sure we’ve covered all the bases. What about a neighbor or another acquaintance? Any other blondes you know of that might have come by?”

  “I can’t think of anyone else,” he said. “I’ve talked to a few other girls at bars since I broke up with Adriana. Got their phone numbers. But none of them know where I live. Things haven’t gotten that far, if you know what I—”

  “Have you spoken to anyone in the management office yet?” I’d cut him off, but I simply couldn’t take one more “if you know what I mean” or I’d whap the guy with my baton.

  “No,” he said. “I haven’t been to the office. Why?”

  “The maintenance man told me that after he refused to let the woman into your place, he suggested she try the office.”

  “You going to talk to them, too?” Ryan asked.

  “As soon as I round up my partner.” I let Brigit out of the car, leashed her, and instructed Ryan to wait for me there. Meanwhile, Brigit and I headed to the office at the front of the property, my partner’s nails click-click-clicking as we went along.

  We caught a young woman with heavy makeup and short, ginger-colored hair as she was locking up for the day. She looked up as we approached. “Uh-oh. Is there a problem?”

  “I have a few questions about the woman with the gift bag and balloons who came by today.”

  The woman cocked her head, her brows forming a puzzled V. “A woman with balloons? I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”

  I repeated what the maintenance man had told me. “He said she was here around twelve-thirty.”

  “That explains it, then,” the woman said. “My lunch hour is from noon to one.”

  “Was anyone else in the office then?”

  “We have a part-time leasing agent who covers for me, but she only works from ten to two, so she’s already gone for the day.”

  Darn. I handed the woman my card. “Could you ask her to call me tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  I took a quick look around at the eaves of the building but saw no security cameras. Of course it was possible they had hidden ones. “Any chance there are security cameras anywhere on the property?”

  “No,” the woman said. “We have a security company that drives by a few times at night, but that’s it.”

  I’d already spoken with the security patrolman earlier in the week and given him my card. So far, he hadn’t called. Like I’d done earlier with the maintenance worker, I lowered my voice. “Can you tell me if you’ve had any issues with the tenant in 206?”

  “Two hundred six.” She looked up in thought, as if mentally reading a roster. “That’s Ryan Downey, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s caused two or three late-night maintenance calls,” she said. “Blown a few fuses with all of his electronics. He repairs devices on the side and sometimes overloads the system. I’ve warned him he needs to be more careful. But as for his rent, he always pays on time and we’ve had no noise complaints on him or anything like that. Seems like a nice enough guy. I see him with his nephew now and then. The kid’s adorable.”

  I had to agree with her there. Toby was a cute little tyke. “All right,” I said. “Thanks for
your time.”

  I returned to where Ryan stood waiting and told him the news. “I won’t know more until tomorrow. Until then, keep your doors and windows locked.”

  “Is this all you can do? Can’t you go by Adriana’s and tell her to leave me alone?”

  “I’ve already told her to stay away from you.”

  He grunted. “Doesn’t seem like she listened.”

  His words irritated me, mostly because they might be true. Why couldn’t people just leave each other alone? Why couldn’t they just do what they were told?

  He stood taller. “Maybe I should go talk to her myself.”

  “That’s a really bad idea,” I told him.

  “Why?”

  Why? Shouldn’t it be obvious? “Because she allegedly attacked you, remember? That was the basis for your protective order.” If he really considered her a threat, why would he have even suggested speaking to her himself? Had the attack never really happened? I’d had some doubts before, and they were stronger now.

  “I can take care of myself,” he snapped.

  Argh! Reflexively, my hand tightened around Brigit’s leash. “Look, Ryan. It’s possible the woman who came by today wasn’t Adriana and simply had the wrong apartment number. She didn’t fit Adriana’s description at all.”

  “She could’ve put a wig on,” he insisted, “and stuffed some socks in her bra. Figures she’d dress up to get me in trouble, but wouldn’t do it when I asked her to.”

 

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