Chapter 99
I TRIED TO get comfortable on the unforgiving metal floor of the white Ford van.
It could pass as a simple delivery van. Rich Conklin was driving.
He wore a brown shirt with a WWDS logo, for Worldwide Delivery Service.
From a distance, it looked just like a UPS uniform.
He even wore a pair of brown, double-knit matching slacks from the clearance rack at Marshalls. He looked the part.
I felt a bump.
Conklin said in a calm voice, “We’re pulling in the driveway now.
No cars around. No one near the front door.
” He was saying it to me as well as broadcasting it to the other cops who were supporting us on the search warrant.
He turned in the seat to speak only to me.
“Pretty good idea, huh? I’ll knock on the door and should be able to tell who’s inside.
I’ll give the signal and we’ll secure this place. ”
“Part of me thinks you made this plan because you thought it’d be funny to see me hide on a hard metal floor.”
“That was only about 20 percent of my reasoning. The other 60 percent was for tactical advantage.”
“What about the final 20 percent?”
“What do you mean? What other 20 percent?”
I was about to point out his poor math skills when he grabbed a box wrapped in brown paper from the front passenger seat.
As he slipped out of the van, he said, “Okay, I see what I left out. The other 20 percent of the plan was to try a new job to see how I liked it. So far I’m not crazy about my coworkers. ”
Conklin turned on his wire so we could all hear him and his interaction with whoever came to the front door. I listened on a handheld radio. I heard his knock in real life and over the radio.
The door opened and I heard Conklin say, “I have a delivery for Kyle Anderson.”
I heard a young woman’s voice say, “He’s not here. He only comes by a few times a week.”
“Will you sign for it if I leave the package here?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
The young woman sounded like a teenager.
Conklin said, “Is there someone else in the house who can sign?”
“There’s only three of us here right now. I can text Kyle. The problem is, he doesn’t always respond.”
In a slightly louder voice, Conklin said, “Okay, I’ll leave the package here without a signature.”
That was the signal for us to enter the house. I opened the van door just as a blue Toyota Tacoma pulled into the driveway. Jackson Brady and three other SFPD officers stepped out of the car. An SUV with more officers as well as a few experts from the Crime Scene Unit pulled in behind everyone.
We all approached the door at the same time. Even though we were wearing ballistic vests with SFPD written in bold letters, Brady held up his badge. “Police. We have a warrant to search the house.” His voice was calm and reasonable.
Now I could see it was a girl in her late teens with long blond hair. A beautiful girl. She was dressed casually in jeans and a bright blouse. She didn’t look surprised. All she said was “I wondered if this might happen.”
I stepped up to the front door and said to the girl, “You guys aren’t in trouble. We’re just looking for Kyle. When was the last time you saw him?”
“He was here earlier today. Said he was going to the Tenderloin.”
“What kind of vehicle does he drive?”
“A white Range Rover.”
I remembered the girl we’d talked to, Sasha Terns, mentioning a white SUV.
We needed to search the house quickly, then get over to the Tenderloin and look for this Kyle.
I felt we were definitely on the right track.