17
R oman pounded his fist against the vending machine, successfully dislodging the stubborn bag of potato chips. He then opened the machine’s door, retrieved all the items, and made his way through the crowded emergency room waiting area.
Standing before Ava, he held up two small bags and asked, “Chips or pretzels?”
Ava frowned, “You said we could get McDonald’s.”
Roman took his seat beside her and said, “I know, and we will. It’s just going to be a little longer.”
“Chips,” Ava said.
Roman opened the bag of chips and handed it to Ava. He wondered if what he had said was true. It had already been two hours since Mr. Longford was taken back for treatment; surely, he would be released soon. Emily must have returned to the cabin by now and was probably worried sick. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the television program above him was cut off by a breaking news story asking for the public’s help in locating an abducted child. This caused him to look up at the screen just as his and Ava’s faces were plastered across it.
The man sitting across from Roman pointed a finger and said, “Hey, that’s you.”
Roman’s heart raced. He grabbed Ava and pulled her out of her seat. “We have to go,” he whispered urgently.
As they dashed out of the waiting room, he heard a security guard shout, “Stop! Get back here!”
Ava started to cry as they charged across the parking lot to Mr. Longford’s car. “It’s okay,” Roman tried to reassure her, but it only made her cry harder.
“I want Mommy,” Ava cried.
Roman placed Ava in the back seat and quickly buckled her seatbelt. He paused for a moment, taking in her distressed expression, and thought to himself, “What am I doing?”
Realizing that only one thing would ease her distress, he gently said, “Okay, I’m taking you to Mommy.” After closing the back door, he swiftly moved to the front seat, started the car, and drove away with renewed urgency.
Roman carried Ava into the police station and immediately found himself staring at the barrel of a Glock 22.
“Put the child down and put your hands in the air,” the officer barked.
Roman complied, gently lowering Ava to the ground and lifting his hands into the air.
“Now, step away from the child,” the officer ordered.
Roman took two steps back, and another officer extended his hand to Ava. Seeing the look of fear on Ava’s face, Roman said, “It’s okay. They’re going to take you to mommy.”
Ava accepted the policeman’s hand and was rushed out of the lobby.
“I’m here to turn myself in,” Roman said calmly.
The police officer hesitated momentarily before lowering his gun and holstering it. He then moved behind Roman, lowering his raised hands and securing them in handcuffs, and read Roman his rights. He whisked Roman out of the lobby to an interrogation room, forced Roman into a chair, and said, “You’ve had a busy week.”
“I can explain,” Roman said, his voice steady. “But first, could you please take off these handcuffs?”
Seeing that the officer wasn’t sure about doing that, he said, “I turned myself in. I’m not going to run.”
The officer uncuffed him and said, “I’m Detective Martin.”
“Thank you, Detective Martin,” Roman said, rubbing his wrists.
Detective Martin sat across from Roman, switched on the recorder on the table between them, and said, “I’ve read your file. You have an impressive police record, even receiving a couple of awards. It makes me wonder how you got mixed up in all this.”
“It was because of my police experience that Emily came to me for help,” Roman began. “I don’t know how much she’s told you, but she’s being blackmailed.”
“I’ve heard some stories,” Detective Martin, said. “Why don’t you tell me your version?”
“I was home last Friday night when I got a call from my friend Travis. He said he was at the Ritz-Carlton with my friend, Emily, and that she needed help. He said she was incapacitated. He thought she might have been drugged. I told him I would be right there.”
“Once I arrived, I helped him get her to her room and put her to bed.”
Detective Martin raised an eyebrow, “He helped you put her to bed?”
“No, I’m sorry. He helped me get her to the room. I told him I could take it from there and sent him home.”
“So, you were the only one who entered her room?” Detective Martin asked.
Roman anticipated the implication and responded, “At that time, yes. But I didn’t rape her.”
“Who said anything about rape?”
“I know what you’re thinking. You think my friend Travis drugged her and then called me so I could come and have sex with her, but that’s not what happened.”
“So then tell me what happened.”
“Nothing. I put her to bed, then left.”
“Did you remove her clothes?”
Roman’s face flushed. “No, I wouldn’t embarrass her like that—she’s my friend. I just took her shoes off. That’s it.”
“How long were you in her room?”
“Not long. Five, ten minutes tops.”
“Did you have sex with her?”
“No, I already told you. I didn’t rape her.”
Detective Martin gave him a sideways look. “Not even consensual intercourse?”
“No, she passed out. She couldn’t consent to anything.”
“Okay, what happened next?” the detective pressed.
“I went outside to keep guard in case someone was planning on paying her a visit.”
“And did they?”
“No, I probably scared them off.” Roman continued, “I stayed until six am, then went home to shower. I planned to let her sleep it off and call her the next day to check on her, but she showed up at my place instead.”
“So, she remembered you from the night before?”
“No. She came to ask for my help. She showed me the envelope she received.”
Detective Martin raised an eyebrow, “And did you tell her that you were there?”
“No, when I saw what was in the envelope, I was afraid she would think I was involved if she knew I was there and wouldn’t let me help her. I needed to figure out who was behind it before I told her I was there.”
“Why didn’t you tell her to go to the police?” Detective Martin asked.
“I tried, but she refused,” Roman explained. “She was afraid for Ava’s safety. I convinced her to stay with me instead. She was adamant about being with Ava, so I promised to bring Ava to her. She gave me a key and the security code to her house. But when I went to get Ava, Emily’s stepson came home and saw me, so I left.”
The door opened, and a police officer stepped inside, placing a cup of water in front of Roman. He knew they were trying to get his prints but took the bait willingly because he had nothing to hide.
“Thank you,” he said, looking up at the officer before taking a big swig from the cup. He continued, “Emily pulled Ava out of daycare on that Monday. Gabriel showed up, and I thought he might have gotten my plate number, so we had to move. Travis has a vacation home – a cabin over on Oak Tree Road. We were staying there while I worked the case.”
“Why didn’t Emily call her husband?”
“Two reasons: First, she was mad at him because she had just discovered he was having an affair. Second, if he was involved with the woman blackmailing Emily, there was a risk he might, intentionally or accidentally, alert her.”
“Do you think he had something to do with it?” the detective asked.
“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “But I don’t trust him. He wiped out their checking and savings accounts. He’s up to something.”
“What happened next?”
“I don’t know how, but Emily found out I was a friend of Travis,” Roman explained, placing a hand on his forehead. “She thought we were somehow involved in this mess. She told me she needed to get clothes for Ava, so I watched her daughter while she went shopping. The next thing I knew, I got a voicemail from Travis. He said Emily had come to see him. She accused him of spiking her drink. She thinks I’m involved in all of this. Oh God, I need to see her.” Roman stood up.
“Sit down, Mr. Martinez,” Detective Martin demanded.
Detective Martin waited for Roman to take his seat, then asked, “Is that when you took Ava and fled?”
Roman raised his voice in frustration, “No! Ava and I left to go find Emily. I needed to explain. Only, I didn’t have a car. Emily was using it. We walked to Mr. Longford’s house to ask for a ride into town.”
“Why didn’t you just call Emily and explain?”
“She didn’t have a phone. It was at my house.”
“Go on.”
“Mr. Longford agreed to give us a ride into town and went to fetch his keys,” Roman recounted. “Meanwhile, Ava got into the candy dish, and her hands were sticky. We went into the kitchen to wash them and found Mr. Longford lying on the floor, bleeding. It looked like he had fallen and hit his head on the corner of the kitchen counter. The cut was deep. He needed stitches. So, we took him straight to the hospital.”
Detective Martin leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed intently on Roman, hanging onto every word.
“While we were sitting in the waiting room for Mr. Longford to be released, a breaking news report came on the television about Ava’s disappearance. That’s when I came straight here and turned myself in.”
Remembering that Mr. Longford was still at the hospital without a ride home, Roman said, “Please, you have to send someone to the hospital to pick Mr. Longford up. I took his car. He has no way of getting home.”
“I’ll send someone,” Detective Martin said. “We received a call from Mercy Hospital. They reported someone spotting the two of you there. When they tried to apprehend you, you ran. Why is that?”
“Because if I let them take me in, you would never have believed that I was going to turn myself in,” Roman explained.
Detective Martin nodded, then turned off the recorder and stood up. “That’s enough for now. I’ll be back,” he said.