Page 120 of Rear View
His eyes went wide, and he blinked hard, confused. A second later, he stood.
Popping the door halfway open, I told him, “We need to talk.”
He strode closer and leaned in, keeping his voice low. “What’s wrong? Is it your father?”
I shook my head, sharp.
The receptionist scurried up to Castillo, her breathing heavy as her gaze darted between us. “I’m sorry, Juan. I told him he couldn’t—”
“It’s fine, Tandy. Mr. Bosch is always welcome.” Hegave her a nod, then pushed his door wider, inviting me in. Turning to the others in the room, he said, “We’ll need to reschedule this for later.”
They rose, grabbed their documents and electronics, said their goodbyes and left. No one questioned him. Complained. Nothin’. A sign of power. Respect.
When the door closed, sealing us in alone, Castillo strode around his desk, took a seat, then linked his hands over his stomach. “What brings you here?”
The room was clean. Sparse. Silver-framed pictures lined the top of the waist-high bookcase to the right, a diploma from U of E displayed beside them. Books on criminal codes and law filled the shelves. His desk had a thin-screened computer and keyboard. The place had a decent view of the city, looking out through the buildings, instead of down on them.
I rolled my shoulders. “My girl’s got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The stalker kind.” I dropped my bag down in front of him and pulled out the stacks of paper I’d printed off that morning.
He inclined his head as his stare tracked over everything I’d laid out. “What’s all this?”
I set a hip on his desk. “Evidence.”
He took from the top of the pile with Ryah’s own notes and started in. Flipping through page after page, he scanned them. An hour ticked by before he lowered everything and looked up. “This is comprehensive.” His stare flicked to me. “You help her with it?”
“Nah. My girl’s just smart.”
Leaning forward, he picked up the first of the emails. His eyes flicked over the message, and he stiffened.“Jesus.” He placed it aside and examined the stack again, his gaze focused. “Are they all like this?”
“Pretty much.”
“And she has no clue who it could be? No scorned exes? Failed friendships? Former employers, landlords or business deals that went bad?”
“Nothin’. Guy’s never given himself away.” Pulling out my phone, I clicked on a voicemail and played it.
“Ryah Jaaaane,”the prick said, some kinda digital modifier messing with his voice.“I’m watching, Ryah Jane.”I clicked the next one.“I can’t wait to taste that sweet little cunt, Ryah Jane.”My fist locked tight when I clicked one after that.“Fuck with me again, Ryah Jane, and next time it’ll be worse.”Then the more recent ones.“Did I say you could leave, Ryah Jane?” “I know you’re with him, Ryah Jane.” “DID I SAY YOU COULD FUCKING LEAVE!”
Castillo stared into the distance, his expression hard. “And he made good on the threat.” The words were low. To himself. “What’d the police say when she went to them?”
I folded my arms over my chest, my grip digging into my biceps. “What d’you think?”
His mouth pinched. “A judge won’t issue a warrant without probable cause. And based on all this,” he flicked a finger toward his desk and added, “it’s not enough.”
My blood got hot. Boiling goddamn hot. “Notenough?” I said through my teeth. “The guy beat her unconscious. Threatened to fuckin’ rape her.”
He raised his hands. “I know. I get it. It’s bullshit. But the system can’t penalize a phantom. It needs a name. Which means you’ve got to figure out what youdoknow.Does the guy have patterns? What sets him off with her? What doesn’t? What is it he wants?”
“He wants her.”
“Yes, but that can’t be all.”
I lifted a brow and angled forward. “What’re you thinkin’?”
“She doesn’t know who he is, so she can’t recognize him. He could walk right up to her, and she’d never know it. He’d have the element of surprise. If it was just her he wanted, hecouldhave her.”
