“O…Okay,” she stammered, a bewildered look in her eyes. She walked to his car, and let herself in on the passenger side of the front seat.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he barked at Rob Quayle.
“But officer, I was just on a date. Is there something wrong with that?”
“There is when you are in your mid-twenties, and the girl is in High School. Further, it doesn’t help to have a history of raping these girls.”
“But—”
“Save it, Quayle. Tell your sob story to the judge. In the meantime, I’m taking you to 300 Indiana Avenue, where you’ll spend the night in a nice, comfortable jail cell.”
The siren of Unit 217 cut through the night air, as it pulled up and stopped, lights flashing. “You okay, Charlie?” asked Craig Holloway, who patrolled a nearby neighborhood.
“Got it under control, Craig,” he answered. “I do need you to take this young lady home. She was about to be his next victim.” He turned to Lisa. “You still okay, honey?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Good. Officer Holloway will take you home.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Lisa turned to Rob and back to Charlie. “You mean this guy is one of those creeps who rapes girls like me?” Lisa started trembling.
“Yes, Lisa. He is; but you’re okay, and he’s under arrest. He won’t be bothering anyone else for quite a while. Hopefully never.”
“Thank you, Officer Walters,” said Lisa, as she gave him a hug.
Wrapping his arms around Lisa he said, “You’re very welcome, sweetie. Now hop in Officer Holloway’s car, and get yourself home, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered.
* * *
Poisonous sat at her computer, perusing the Dark Web for deals she could engage in. On the television in the living room, she could hear the news anchor reporting a story. She heard the anchor mention ‘Rob Quayle’ and it caught her attention. Getting up and heading into the living room, where Evie’s eyes were glued to the set, she watched the screen.
“Poisonous,” Evie said, “they just captured a pedophile at the Capital Scene. His name is Robert Quayle…”
Uh-oh. Sounds like Rob, who I did business with. “Huh. Let me watch this.”
“…Quayle is known to have a history of molesting young girls. He was found tonight in front of the notorious Capital Scene, where wild behavior frequently takes place. We now take you live to the scene in front of the Capital Scene. Russ, what can you tell us?”
“Well, Robin, I am talking with Officer Charlie Walters, of the District of Columbia Police Department, who made the arrest of Quayle just an hour ago.
Officer Walters, when did you know it was the man who raped Shauna Williams about a month ago.”
“Well, Russ, Mr. Quayle had been in a national database of sex offenders and pedophiles. We added him to our local database, so his picture is in our files. I was sitting in front of the Capital Scene, when I saw him coming up the sidewalk with a young girl at his side. I recognized him from the picture we have of him, and made the arrest.”
“We hear that Mr. Quayle is now in custody at the Metropolitan Police Department, being held in custody until the District Judge sets bail. Can you comment on that?”
“We believe Mr. Quayle is guilty of rape, and had committed his crimes many times before. I’m pretty sure he’ll face jail time.”
Poisonous watched, horrified at the prospect of being associated with Quayle, and realized the security cameras might have caught her on that night as well. In fact, she realized that every time she committed a crime, they probably had a record of her being there. She needed to go back to her room.
“That’s terrible, Evie. I may know all sorts of evil, but taking advantage of children is deplorable.”
Evie said nothing; she only looked at her with suspicious eyes.
“Well,” she said, getting up to leave, “I think I’ll go back to my room. Things to do.”
Ignoring Evie’s accusing stare, she returned to her room, and contemplating the implications of what she had just heard, said, “I need to make sure that the video cameras stop wherever I go.
* * *
Officer Jill Stichler drove down K Street, surveying the people and the events of the Mount Vernon Square neighborhood she patrolled. The time on her dashboard display indicated it was ten thirty a.m. Late morning traffic was light, and most denizens of D.C. were at work. Not too many people walked the streets. The occasional courier rode by on a bike, and delivery trucks drove throughout the Downtown area, mostly on K Street. Owners of businesses made signs about things people could buy ‘today only,’ or a special sale going on. Otherwise, the scene was quiet. Heading West on K from 4th Street, the Metro View complex came into view on the right. A woman walked out of the “K” and headed west. Something looked very familiar about her. A quick scan of perps and persons of interest in the National Crime Information Center database revealed that this woman was being sought after as a person of interest. She pulled up to her, stopped the car with the tires screeching, bounded out of the cruiser and ran towards her.
“Stop right there, and put your hands in the air,” she shouted.
The woman turned and looked at her, and with a very calm voice said, “Is there a problem, officer?”
“You’re wanted for questioning,” she answered.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman answered, and looked straight at her. The woman’s eyes turned a bright red and her mind grew numb in very little time. The next thing Jill knew, a woman walked away from her, and she wondered why she was looking at her. The last thing she remembered, she was
