Malevolence

Tiffany couldn’t concentrate on the paperback book she’d bought at Super King. She had a horrible thought. What if the people chasing her had access to videos at Super King and other food stores? Maybe take-out restaurants too. They must assume she hadn’t gone far and needed the necessities of life and food. She’d used cash but they might have seen her license number and followed her by street cameras straight here. Or maybe she had seen too many movies and her imagination was running on overtime. Or, as they say, you’re not paranoid if somebody really is after you.

She got out her cell phone and tapped the speed dial. She drummed her fingers nervously on the dashboard as she waited. There was no answer, so she left a message. “Sergeant Baker, I’m afraid to stay at the garage any longer, so I’m going to sneak out the back door and walk down the street to a laundromat. I’ll pretend I’m sitting there waiting for my clothes to dry. Please come pick me up! I’ll stay there until you come. It’s near Vesper and Van Owen.”

She stuffed everything into her handbag and opened the car door. She heard voices outside the sliding door, so she quickly made her way to the back door, pushed it open a few inches, and went outside. She was shaking so hard she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. No one came around the side. She stayed off the sidewalk and walked as close to the buildings as she could, stepping into driveways whenever possible. Finally, she came to the laundromat, walked in, looked at one of the dryers in use, and pretended her clothes were in there. She found a seat in the back and sat down to wait.

****

“Thank God, a human being to talk to!” Maryanne had opened the door to the condo as soon as Rosemaria knocked.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’ve got a car waiting downstairs. Larry is driving, and a patrolman is in the back seat. So, you’ll be perfectly safe. You ready to go?”

Maryanne picked up her bag and coat from the couch and said, “Absolutely.”

“Hold on. I need to check if I have any new messages. I’ve been avoiding my boss, who’s called at least ten times. I think I’d better call him back before he has a stroke. She scrolled through her messages. “Darn!”

“What is it?”

“Tiffany called.” She tapped in the phone number and waited. “Tiffany, are you all right?”

Tiffany, still sitting in the laundromat, was so relieved she choked up and could hardly talk. “I think they tracked me down somehow. I’m at the laundromat on Van Owen near Vesper. How fast can you get here?”

“It will take at least forty-five minutes in this traffic even with lights and a siren. If you feel you’re in danger, go somewhere else, and we’ll find each other.”

“Where?! There is no place else!” Tiffany spoke in a loud whisper. She noticed the other people in the laundromat, almost all of them Latinos, staring at her.

“I can calI the Van Nuys Police Department, and they’ll have a patrol car come immediately.”

“No! They don’t know me. They might hand me over to those people. I have to wait for you.”

“Then hide the best you can till we get there. I’m sorry. And get rid of your phone. I hope they haven’t traced it already.”

Tiffany clicked off the phone, went outside, stomped on it, and threw it in the trash. She returned to where she had been sitting, turned to the woman sitting closest to her, and spoke. “My father beats me. He’s trying to find me to take me back home. I’m very afraid of him. Do you understand?” The lady looked at her, comprehending some of her words. “Mi padre es muy malo.” Tiffany searched for words she had learned as a child in Texas. “Él me pega. Me está buscando. Me temo que. Si viene, necesito esconderme. Comprende?”

The woman stood up and spoke to a man who had been standing next to her. Tiffany thought he must be her husband. Their conversation was so fast she couldn’t understand what they were saying.

The woman came back to her. “No worry. If you see him coming, we hide you. No worry.”

“But where? Dónde?”

“You no worry. He no find you.”

****

Rosemaria pulled Maryanne down the corridor to the elevator. She punched the button, and the door opened immediately.

“What’s wrong! Are they after us?!”

“No, it’s Tiffany. They found where she was hiding. We have to go pick her up before they get to her!”

“Oh my God!”

The doors opened to the parking lot, and they ran to the unmarked police car. The back door was open. Maryanne jumped in beside Patrolm an Jamison, who was thirty years old and built like a middleweight. He nodded at her reassuringly. Rosemaria slid into the passenger seat and shouted, “Start the car. We have to go to Van Nuys!”

Larry did as he was told. “What the hell is going on now?”

“Whoever is after Tiffany found out where she was hiding. She’s in a laundromat on Van Owen near Vesper. She’s terrified.”

“Well, shoot, what are we waiting for?” He tore out of the garage.

The 405 was jammed. Rosemaria slammed the magnetic red light onto the roof, and Larry turned on the siren. They flew up the side of the freeway. They made it to the 101 in record time and got off on Van Nuys, lights and siren all the way. Rosemaria looked back at Maryanne, who seemed to be in a state of shock. She had probably never ridden in a car going this fast before. “Don’t worry, we won’t get a ticket.” The joke fell flat on everybody.

Finally, they got to Van Owen and started looking for the laundromat. They saw it up ahead.

“Let’s make a pass and see if there’s any sign of the two men who are following her,” Larry said. All seemed quiet around the laundromat. They made a U-turn and pulled into the parking lot. Larry glanced toward the back seat at Maryanne. “Stay in the car with Jamison.”

Rosemaria and Larry walked slowly toward the entrance of the laundromat. Rosemaria had her hand on the gun inside her purse, and Larry had his hand on the holster inside his jacket. He waited outside as Rosemaria went into the laundromat. She looked around and saw only a few Latino women and three burly Latino men who looked like they did heavy construction work. She hesitantly approached one of the women. “Has visto a una joven rubia? Ella es mi amiga. Ella me está esperando.” Even as she asked the questions, her hopes faded. It was obvious Tiffany wasn’t there. A cold fear cramped her chest. She was too late.

One of the women came toward Rosemaria. “Ella es su amiga?”

“Si, mi amiga.”

“Para salvarla de su padre?’’

This took Rosemaria aback for a split second. Save her from her father? “Si, para salvarla!”

The woman indicated for Rosemaria to follow her and led her to a large commercial dryer in the back of the room. She opened up the dryer, and Tiffany peeked through the clothes. She crawled out and threw herself at Rosemaria. “Sergeant, you came!”

“Of course I did.” Rosemaria held her close.

The words poured out of Tiffany in a torrent, “They came in here, but Elena, her husband, and the others saved me. There were two of them, and they walked around and looked everywhere. I was terrified they would look in the dryer, but they didn’t. I think they must have decided not to confront Elena’s husband and his two friends.” Tiffany turned back to Elena and hugged her. “Gracias, mi amiga, gracias!”

“De nada, Tiffany.” Elena and her husband seemed nonplussed. They had done a good deed. It was the right thing to do.

Rosemaria thanked them all and hustled Tiffany out the door. “We have to get out of here. Let’s not have a gun battle in a laundromat in Van Nuys, if we can avoid it.”

Larry was already back in the driver’s seat when Rosemaria practically shoved Tiffany through the rear door, on the other side of Jamison. Rosemaria hopped in the passenger seat. As Larry backed up and drove out of the parking lot, Rosemaria turned around and looked at the two girls. They reached across Jamison to clutch each other’s hands.

“I’m so sorry I got you into this, Maryanne. This is all my fault,” Tiffany said.

“We both believed a con man, Tiffany. We should have known better.”

“So, do I have two guests at my condo now, or what?” Larry asked.

“Until we find a place more permanent away from LA,” Rosemaria answered. “Obviously, these people have the means to track their victims, but there must be some place we can come up with.”

She glanced back at the girls, who didn’t like the sound of her words.

“Don’t worry, I will figure out something. Those bastards will not lay a hand on either one of you.”

The girls looked only slightly comforted.

****