Street Dreams (49 page)

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Authors: Faye Kellerman

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #FIC022000

BOOK: Street Dreams
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“They have sex education in the center. You told me that yourself.”

“Very clinical stuff, Dad, not the same peer-to-peer giggling and gossiping and bragging that most of us go through. I was
just thinking that maybe … maybe Sarah Sanders had had experience before David.”

“That the gang rape wasn’t her first
forced
sexual experience.”

“Why not?” I exclaimed. “Maybe that’s what Sarah Sanders was sitting on. That someone in the center had been molesting her.
It wouldn’t be the first time a retarded girl has been taken advantage of sexually. And it could be that it was more of a
seduction than a forced sexual encounter because that would make Sarah reluctant to give him up. Because she might have felt
that she had some complicity in it.”

Decker said, “And you like this obnoxious guy for the molester?”

“Yes, because he truly is odious.”

“Molesters are often charming, Cindy.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! He’s a jerk, but he was nice to Belinda. Why?”

“Okay. Even if he was molesting Sarah, what does that have to do with the hit-and-run?”

“Now, this is where it’s getting a bit … speculative. Maybe Buck was also molesting Belinda.”

“Because he got up and talked to her?”

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“Go on.”

“Buck knew we were talking to Sarah. And he knew we were investigating a gang rape. If Buck was molesting her, maybe he thought
his molestation would come out in the course of our investigation. And if it did, then the other girl, Belinda, maybe she’d
also have a story to tell. Now could be he figures he can handle Sarah Sanders, especially since at that time she wasn’t regarded
in a positive light. She had abandoned her baby. You know, his word against hers. Sarah wasn’t much of a threat. But if there
had been others …”

Decker didn’t speak.

“Okay, it’s loony. Forget it.”

“It’s not loony; it’s a … theory.”

“Dad, I have a good relationship with Louise Sanders now. I set her up with David Tyler’s conservator, and she’s getting a
little money for Ella—that’s the baby’s name. Actually, it’s Cinderella. Louise let Sarah name her daughter. Anyway, David’s
lawyer gave her enough money to hire a nanny, so I’m definitely on Louise’s good side. Plus, Koby and I have visited them
several times. Sarah
adores
Koby. I think he reminds her of David. So there’s a lot more trust than when we first interviewed her.”

“Perfect,” Decker said. “Go for it.”

I exhaled. “I’m still inexperienced in these kinds of things. I’d like a little help.”

“No problem, pumpkin. I have time. Let’s go check it out.”

“I know I’m bordering on fiction here. Still, aren’t you the one who always said trust your gut?”

“Especially in this crazy world. Let me change and I’ll leave a note for Rina. Then we’ll be off.”

“Great.” I smiled. “Thanks so much.”

“For what?”

“For coming with me. But mostly for listening to me.”

“Are you kidding?” He tousled my hair. “Give me a minute.”

“Take your time.” I smiled and really meant it, because Dad had this expression, this absolutely
glorious
expression, of respect in his eyes—a look that said more than a million words.

I got a hug from Louise. “Come in, come in. It’s always nice when you drop by.”

“You remember my father, don’t you, Louise?”

“Yes, of course. Please come in. … Is it Sergeant Decker?”

“Lieutenant,” I corrected. We walked inside.

Over the past months, Louise Sanders’s living room had been taken over by baby paraphernalia. Plush toys had replaced the
throw pillows on the brown leather couch. The coffee table was crowded with plastic squeaky animals and baby books. A mesh
playpen stood next to the piano, milk bottles all over the place. Still, the space was pleasant, brimming over with light
and mid-morning summer heat. The windows were open, but there was no discernible breeze.

Louise had highlighted her gray hair with some blond streaks. She’d also dropped a couple of pounds. She was taking care of
herself and that was good. Maybe I was flattering myself, but I liked to think that I played a small part in that piece of
theater. Today, Louise wore denim shorts and a boat-neck white shirt, sandals on her feet.

“Can I get either of you anything to drink?”

Before I could answer, Sarah walked in. Her blond hair had been cut short for the summer, so now she was all cheeks and face,
all round and pink. She wore a loose blue cotton dress; her fingernails and toenails were painted silver. Her eyes narrowed
as she looked at me, then around the room. “Where’s”—she struggled to get the words out—“Where’s … Ko-by?”

“Sarah, say hello first,” Louise told her.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Sarah,” I answered. “Koby is out running this morning.”

“Where’s he running to?”

I smiled. “He’s running a race.”

“Did he win?”

“It’s not that kind of race. You run it to see how fast you can run. Today, he’s running a twenty K. That means he’s running
for twelve miles.”

Her mouth opened. “That’s a lot of miles.”

“Yes, it is.”

“You didn’t go with him?” Dad asked me.

“They started at seven to beat the heat. Thanks, but I’ll pass.” To Sarah, I said, “Is Ella sleeping?”

Sarah nodded.

Louise said, “I just put her down—”


I
put her down,” Sarah piped in.

“Right.” Louise gave a half smile. “She won’t be up for a couple of hours.”

“That’s okay, Louise. We actually wanted to talk to Sarah … if that’s all right.”

The older woman frowned. “What about?”

I glanced at my father. He had changed from a T-shirt to a polo shirt, but he still wore jeans. I thought that gave him a
casual touch. He said, “Just to clear up a couple of things.”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” I said.

Louise started tossing the plush toys into the playpen to clear up room on the couch. “Have a seat.”

“You sit, too, Louise,” Decker said. “This could concern you as well.”

“What’s this all about?” Louise sat.

“I’m not sure,” I told her. “But I need you to trust me. ’Cause this was all my idea.”

“What is going on?” She put her hand to her heart. “Something
else?

My father shrugged. I said, “It may take a little time, so please be patient. Because I want to do this right.”

Louise looked at me, unhappy, but then she ultimately nodded for me to go ahead.

My father smiled at Sarah. “So you like Koby?”

Sarah nodded.

“I like him, too.”

Sarah nodded.

“Why do you like him?”

Sarah giggled. “’Cause he’s … cute.”

Decker smiled. “I’ll tell you why I like him. I like him because he’s nice.”

Sarah nodded.

“Do you ever play games with him?”

Sarah thought a moment. “Sometimes.”

“What kind of games?”

“Ball.”

“What kind of ball?”

“Handball.”

“On the garage door?”

She hugged herself and smiled. “I always win.”

“So you must be really good at handball.”

Sarah giggled.

“What other games do you do with Koby?”

She thought a long time. “Once, he took me to the high school to play basketball. We brang my handball. I made one basket.
He had to pick me up. I was too short.”

Decker nodded. “How’d you get to the high school?”

Sarah seemed confused.

“Did you drive in a car or walk or take a bus?”

“We walked.”

“You walked.”

“Yes.”

“Did you have to cross streets to get there?”

“Yes.”

“Did Koby hold your hand when you crossed the street?”

Sarah thought a moment, then nodded.

“That’s good. What other games did Koby play with you?”

Sarah thought about the question. “Sometimes we drew squiggles.”

“Squiggles are fun. Do you like to draw?”

“Sometimes.”

“Me too. What else did you do with Koby?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know … just stuff.”

“Did he ever play … like tag with you? Or maybe a tickling game?”

I shot a glance at my father. He ignored me.

Abruptly, the girl grew melancholy, very silent. Louise and I exchanged glances. I shrugged. An unexpected sweat came over
my body.

Dad said, “You know, tickle your ribs or something like that?”

Sarah waited for what seemed like an eternity, then shook her head. “I …” She fell silent.

“What, Sarah?” Dad asked.

“He sometimes tickled Ella’s foot. I wanted him to tickle
me.
So I asked him to stop tickling Ella and tickle
me.

“And what did Koby say when you asked him to tickle you?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “He said that big boys don’t tickle big girls unless they’re boyfriend and girlfriend.” Sarah
opened her eyes and glanced at me. Then she rubbed her arms. “I asked him to be
my boyfriend,
but he said he was already
Cindy’s boyfriend.
” Her eyes watered. “So he didn’t tickle me.”

Decker nodded. “That makes sense.”

She turned her head away. Obviously, it didn’t make sense to her.

Decker said, “What about David? Did he ever tickle you?”

Her voice grew quiet. “Sometimes.”

“But David was your boyfriend, right?”

She nodded.

“Did you like it when he tickled you?”

Again she nodded.

“So it was okay with you that David tickled you.”

“Yes.”

“Did any other big boy ever tickle you?”

She eyed Decker with suspicion and didn’t answer.

“You know …” Dad smiled. “Tickle you to make you laugh?”

She maintained silence. She wasn’t as slow as her tested intelligence indicated.

Dad said, “Let’s talk about David some more. David used to tickle you, right?”

She nodded.

“And that was okay … when David touched you.”

“Sometimes I liked it. Sometimes I didn’t.”

“When didn’t you like it?”

“You know”—her face got very red—“when he did sex.”

Louise was about to talk, but she managed to control herself. I put my hand on her knee and patted it. She eyed me for a moment;
then she tried a stiff smile that died.

Decker said, “That’s right, Sarah. You told me that you didn’t like the sex at all.”

She nodded.

“I want you to think very hard, Sarah. Can you do that for me?”

She didn’t answer.

“I want you to think about the times you had sex with David. Did you ever tell him not to have the sex with you?”

Her eyes were downcast. “No.”

“That’s okay, that you didn’t tell him no. But I am curious. If you didn’t like it, why did you do it … the sex?”

Sarah didn’t speak for a long time. I was waiting for my father to repeat the question, but he didn’t. Finally, she said,
“Because he was my boyfriend.”

“Ah … so it’s okay to have sex with your boyfriend?”

“You have to do sex with your boyfriend. If you don’t, he isn’t your boyfriend.”

“Ah.
Now
I understand. Did David tell you that?”

She didn’t answer. I eyed Louise sitting as stiff as steel, kneading hands that should have been resting in her lap.

“Someone else?”

She was silent.

From the other room, Ella let go with a few halfhearted cries. Maybe we were talking too loudly.

Louise got up quickly. “Excuse me.”

Sarah started to stand, but her sister told her to stay put.

“But it’s
my
baby,” Sarah protested.

“I’ll bring her in if she’s up, all right? Just sit, okay?”

Sarah didn’t argue, but she remained sulky. Decker waited until Louise was gone. Then he smiled and said, “You know, a beautiful
girl like you, I bet you had … a hundred boyfriends.”

Sarah’s face softened. “No.”

“Fifty?”

“No.”

“Twenty-five?”

She attempted to hold back a smile. “No.”

“But more than one. I’m sure of it.”

She gave a half smile. “Maybe.”

“And your other boyfriends … did they tickle you?”

The smile widened. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?” Dad made a mock skeptical face. In a singsong voice, he said, “I bet they did.”

Sarah giggled.

“Did they also do sex with you?”

Instantly, the merriment died.

“Sarah,” Decker said. “Remember we talked before. And I told you how it’s okay to tell secrets if they’re bad secrets.”

She didn’t speak.

“If you had sex with a man, it’s okay to tell me. Even if he told you not to tell.”

She turned her head away.

“Please, Sarah. You’ve got to trust me. You can tell me.”

“But he was my boyfriend.” Tears were in her eyes. “Then he said he didn’t want to be my boyfriend anymore.” Wet streaks rolled
down her cheeks.

“Who, Sarah?” Decker asked. “Who didn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore?”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Sarah, you don’t have to keep a bad secret.”

“I don’t have to, but I
want
to.”

Decker glanced at me and shook his head. “Okay, Sarah. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to. But if you ever change
your mind, I’ll be happy to listen to you.”

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