A police officer took my report regarding the incident with Gene. Larry, the security guard, gave the make and model of the car he drove away in and the first letter of the license plate. They said they would check surveillance video and let me know if they located him. In the meantime, Larry promised to walk me to my car (that had already been the plan), and I told him I’d tell him when I was ready to leave.
I spoke to Mom and Dad on the phone and had a chance to call Verity as well. I left out the incident with Gene because I hated for them to worry, and, quite frankly, I didn’t want the night to be colored by that horrible situation. Instead, I concentrated on the positive aspects of the evening and how I got through it even though I felt under the weather.
When it was finally time to return home, Larry escorted me through the parking lot, and even with him at my side, I held a small canister of pepper-spray in my hand. I felt more secure knowing I had some means to defend myself if I had to. It was spring, the air was still chilly at night, and I was thankful I’d thought to bring a sweater.
“You were wonderful tonight,” Larry said. “Such a beautiful voice.”
“Thank you. Somehow I made it through.”
“Sorry about what happened earlier. I feel terrible that guy got backstage.”
“Well, hopefully he doesn’t—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish that statement because someone ran up behind us and I heard a thud. Larry dropped to the ground, and I turned in horror to find a man in a black baseball cap and dark sunglasses standing there, shadows falling all around him. He had a green and brown camouflage print cloth mask that reached up over his nose and fit snugly over the back of his head. I’d seen construction workers with something similar to keep the hot sun off their faces.
My eyes widened, and terror ripped through me as the gravity of the situation sunk in. This man was here to hurt me, and I couldn’t tell if it was Gene, but he seemed about the same height. My pulse accelerated until it felt as though my heart was beating out of my chest. As if it had wings of its own and was about to fly off. I froze and could barely breathe or form a coherent thought.
He grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me through the parking lot as if I were a limp doll. I’d heard that moments like these revealed how a person dealt with a crisis. It all boiled down to one of two choices: fight or flight. Four years ago, when Daniel and I were mugged, I did neither. I just stood there…stunned.
I couldn’t let that happen again. Although I was exhausted and physically spent, I pushed against him as best I could while at the same time trying to unsnap the cover of the pepper spray in my hand. I brought my foot up and then slammed it down on top of his, but it seemed to have little effect. I tugged at the mask around his face and managed to pull it down a few inches, revealing a jagged scar on the right side of his jaw. It was raised off the skin with a rope-like texture. He gripped my wrist and lifted the cloth covering to where it had been, all in one motion.
I screamed, hoping to draw a crowd…anyone who was in the vicinity. My antics startled him, giving me the freedom to undo the snap and aim my pepper-spray at him. He knocked it out of my hand before I had a chance to expel the contents. A man shouted in the distance, and several bystanders ran towards us. That was enough to spook him, and he took off in the opposite direction.
Larry stood to his feet unsteadily and rubbed the back of his head. “Where’d he go?”
I pointed behind him, and he turned and jogged after him. The poor man was not up to running after that guy. There was no way he’d catch up to him, especially after being hit on the head like that.
Glancing down, I saw a folded piece of paper lying on the ground that hadn’t been there before, and suspecting my attacker must have dropped it, I bent down. The wind blew it forward several feet, and I ran after it, sensing it was important. I finally caught up to it and grabbed it before it disappeared. I opened up the paper to find a list of addresses, all in California, but I wasn’t sure what it was exactly.
A couple of bystanders reached me by that time, and I assured them I was okay. I recovered my unused pepper-spray and Larry returned a few minutes later, stating that the man got away.
Larry called the police and a different officer took my report this time. His name was Officer Hill, and he was a young guy appearing to be in his twenties. I used my phone to snap a picture of the printout and handed it over as possible evidence.
“Ma’am, do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?” he asked. “Two incidents in one evening… You shouldn’t be alone in case either of those guys know where you live.”
“Yes, I can stay with my parents. They live in Orange County.”
“Good. We’ll check surveillance for both situations and give you a call as soon as we have something.”
“Thank you.” My stomach gurgled in a not-so-nice way, and I grimaced. I really needed to go to bed. Even so, I was sure I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight after what happened.
***
Two days later, the police called and said they found surveillance of
