Chapter 33
Traffic was heavier now. Commuters headed from San Francisco out to the suburbs clogged the roads. This morning had been no problem. Now Cindy was inching along in traffic just to do something most people would consider foolhardy. That was the exact reason she had not told Lindsay her plan.
Going on the tip-call visit with Joe Molinari and Debbie Roche, Cindy saw how the FBI took action. She’d paid particular attention to how they conducted surveillance. That’s what she intended to do now: basically, act like a cop and take some action.
Who knows what I might observe. Anything is possible.
Cindy had forwarded the list of suspects Eric Snaff had provided her earlier in the day to one of the researchers at the San Francisco Chronicle and had asked them to search each of the names.
The researcher had been able to find addresses and photos online of each of the people and had sent the information to Cindy.
One of the names on the list belonged to Nicole’s soccer coach and PE teacher. That’s where Cindy had decided to start.
She exited the freeway near Lafayette. The neighborhood she was looking for wasn’t far from the reservoir. It wasn’t quite as nice as Eric Snaff’s neighborhood, but it was well-kept and clearly had a lot of children living there.
She parked her car a few houses down from where the soccer coach lived.
That’s what she remembered the FBI agents doing.
It didn’t take long before Cindy’s patience was rewarded.
A blue minivan pulled into the driveway, and she recognized the soccer coach as the driver.
A woman and two teens got out of the minivan and carried groceries into the house.
Cindy made a note of the time and the two teenagers who walked in the house with the woman. She wasn’t sure how this information added to her story or might help a police investigation in the future, but she was dutiful in her surveillance.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman in a green tracksuit with a Boston terrier on a leash walked down the sidewalk past Cindy’s car.
She took a good look at the Hyundai. After the dog had done his business, the woman walked past again.
This time she paused, and Cindy was fairly certain she was photographing the license plate.
About ten minutes later, a Contra Costa County sheriff’s car pulled up behind her. She watched in her rearview mirror as a short but muscular young deputy stepped out of his cruiser and strolled up to her driver’s-side window.
She already had the window down and was ready to start explaining. She wasn’t sure of the details, but it didn’t really matter.
The deputy asked, “Are you all right, ma’am?”
Cindy had to bite her tongue not to say Don’t call me ma’am. Then she realized he was probably just being polite.
“Yes, Officer, I’m just a little confused on my directions and had to make some phone calls. I hope I’m not bothering anyone. Was I breaking the law?”
He shrugged and said, “No, ma’am. I was following up a citizen’s concern. What if you were here to commit a crime? We just have to make sure the citizens know they can count on us.”
All Cindy could think to say was “Fair enough.”
As soon as the deputy got back into his patrol car and pulled away, Cindy said out loud to herself, “This is crazy. I’m acting like an idiot. Screw this.”
She was back in San Francisco forty minutes later.