THOR - ONC 2024

10. Slippery Stalker

I shifted beneath Marissa. "Should get that. Carol never texts unless it's urgent."

"Love her timing – waiting until we both popped."

"Ummm. But it had chimed earlier."

"It did? Didn't hear it."

I chuckled. "I barely did as you hooted in harmony with it."

"Oh!" She chuckled. "My dorm mates called me The Screamer. Seems I still am."

As she knelt above me and reached for the box of Kleenex, I asked, "Dorm mates?"

"UBC pre-med."

"Oh! You studied medicine. Doctor?"

She handed me some tissue and held a wad to herself as she rose. "Doing my veterinary doctorate when –" She paused and blew a deep breath. "When Norman raped me. Oh, God! Finally able to say it without shuddering or melting."

"Great! Each little victory adds to the previous." I rolled off the bed, went to the chair and retrieved the phones from my suitcoat pocket. Then, selecting the black one, I thumbed in, clicked texts and read: Rawlstead in sex registry. Spurious address. Daryl wants direction. Carol.

Wincing, I clicked the next message: Daryl has ID on van. Call him. Carol.

Damn! Should have given Daryl access to this phone.

"You look disturbed, Graham. What is it?"

"Daryl found Norman and identified the van."

Marissa fist-pumped, paused and shook her head. "Why the look?"

"The ease of slipping through the cracks of the sex registry. I need to call him. Listen, and we'll both understand better." I picked up the silver phone, turned it on, thumbed in, noted the texts, went to recent and selected Daryl.

"Leung."

"Mason. Sorry, switched my phone off instead of silencing it. What have you, Daryl?"

"Rawlstead's been out for eight months. Changed address seven times. Looked up the latest one on OpenStreetMap – it's beyond the end of Lakewood Drive, out in the middle of Trout Lake."

"Either an error or willful avoidance. Is there a pattern to the previous addresses?"

"I've just begun analysing them for that."

"Good. What about the van?"

"A Chev. Looks like the 1978 to 82 model. Two extension ladders on the roof rack. Set up to carry lumber, pipes or similar. I've queried the motor vehicle database for Chevrolet van plates beginning with BR."

"Great. Query also vehicles owned by Rawlstead. We'll keep this in-house until we have something solid for the police."

"Can you give me some background, so I understand the bigger picture?"

"Before conviction, he was involved in showing and breeding dogs. We suspect criminal harassment of his rape victim – her million-dollar poodle was abducted this morning, and the perpetrators fled in the white van."

"Million-dollar poodle?"

"A high-demand stud. His knackers gross close to a quarter-million a year."

"Wow, lucky dog."

"As I had said." I chuckled. "I'll send you some photos."

After I closed the call and we had sent photos of Thor to Daryl, I asked Marissa, "Does it make sense now?"

"The senselessness of the offender registry, yes. Why so many addresses?"

"Takes a while to settle in. Some have no family to go to. Start in a homeless shelter – Sally Ann or whatever. They must report all moves within seven days."

"And end up in the middle of a lake."

"If it's avoidance rather than an error, a name change is likely."

"Oh, Fuck! They're allowed to change their names."

I nodded. "And they must report it within seven days. All applications, granted or denied, are searchable in the Government files."

"A small mercy."

"But that's only if they change it officially. Altered ID is the beginning of an identity change, and it usually morphs through several iterations until it's obscure." I shrugged. "Those who want to disappear can learn all the tricks while in prison."

"The system seems so easy to dupe."

"Most abide by the rules; otherwise, they face having their parole revoked."

She blew a deep breath. "He's stupid enough to risk it."

I wrapped her in a hug. "You're safe with me, Marissa."

She snuggled closer. "Ummm."

"Let's lie on the bed and resume our cuddle. Talk about something else. Tell me about your doctorate."

I put my phones on the bedside table, and after we settled into an entwined embrace, Marissa said, "Countless hours gathering data for my dissertation – mostly written – waiting only for the completion of the focal study. The months of disruption with the trials meant having to restart."

"Restart? Why?"

"I was investigating the effects of early neutering. Lost track of the dogs I was following."

"Lost track?"

"In the animal shelters. Adopted or put down."

"Oh!"

"Every time I tried returning to it, I'd flashback to Norman and freak. By the time the civil suit came to trial, my lawyer had added future income loss and diminution of earning capacity."

"Oh, wow! Those are big money."

"Yeah, next only to the punitive."

"Did you eventually complete it?"

She nodded. "Took me three years, but I didn't submit it. My lawyer advised me not to – thought it might trigger an appeal of the settlement."

"Possibly misguided."

Marissa shook her head. "Over eight million. Besides, by that time, Thor and Ulima were providing more than I would earn as a newbie vet."

"Oh! Not at all misguided." I tilted my head. "Ulima? The one downstairs with the pups?"

"No, that's Sibyl, his current mate. Ulima was his first – bought her with part of the settlement money. He bred her seven times, and the pups all showed well – many champions and two best-in-shows, establishing his reputation."

"Still living in Kits?"

"Couldn't. When I was released from the hospital, I moved in with my parents."

I winced at the thought of her injuries. "Where was Thor during this?"

"Greta, my neighbour, took care of him until Mum picked him up.

"The nosy one who ..." I paused at the gong. "That'll be a text from Daryl."

I reached across and picked up the silver phone, thumbed in, went to texts and turned it so we could both read: 1979 Chev van plate BR9 090 registered to Dorman Bawtsteed.

Total story words – 10,366