“And why would you know that, and what does that matter?”
“When these cases are brought to our attention, we do a quick background check of all parties involved. It helps us figure out what we’re dealing with. I looked up Master Whitefield, too, and between you and me, he’s nuttier than a squirrel turd, and I see why you’re concerned.” She nodded in understanding. “Regardless, I appreciate that you’ve practically memorized the laws for stalking. Well spoken. Well put together.” Ain’t you a good little Negro… It took everything in her power to not utter her thoughts out loud. “I know I’m not dealing with some hysterical woman or a fool, and I understand you went through a traumatic ordeal with this rascal. But unless he’s trying to get into your house, or callin’ you and we know it’s him, or God forbid, inflicts bodily harm, no one has the green light to exert the time, money, and energy to trace a cellphone that may or may not be his, for a crime he may or may not have committed.”
“I bet if it was your own daughter though, the one you made sure to reference earlier, you and your friends here would be doing all of that and then some. Laws be damned.”
His complexion deepened and his brows bunched. The man’s lips drew tight, and he swallowed before taking a couple breaths.
“Ms. Price, it is also illegal to do such a thing without probable cause. So stop waving this birthday card around,” he snatched it off the desk, “demanding that the post office pull cameras to see who dropped it off for delivery. I don’t know if you’ve been watching too many crime shows, but that’s not how this works. This is a stalking case from a decade ago.”
“He’s stalking me right now! It’s not from a decade ago. You just said I seem to have my marbles in order, so why in the hell would I be sittin’ here talking to you about someone who hasn’t said a word to me in over a damn decade, unless he was back like a virus? He isn’t some Johnny-Come-Lately, but this is an old hat for him. Out with the old, in with the new, then reverse it. Par for the course. What in the hell is wrong with you that you can’t seem to grasp the most basic information right now? This isn’t rocket science.”
“There’s no need to cuss and become belligerent. I’ve explained everything. I’ve made it clear as to why we can’t just go and arrest him. Now, you have to be reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable, and you’re being dismissive and condescending, acting like I don’t know the difference between a crime show and reality. This man is a clear and present danger.” She tapped his desk with her fingernail, desperate and angry. “I know it’s him. I believe you know it’s him, too. I went through hell getting away from this man. I went through over ten months of therapy and deprogramming.” She swallowed as the knot in her gut tightened. “I have anxiety attacks every now and again, things that remind me of him. A smell… the way someone says my name…”
The man gave a heavy sigh, and for a split second, he looked genuinely concerned.
“I believe you, Ms. Price. It’s an awful thing. I wish I could do more… I really do.”
“What about the message of him calling me the cult name he gave me?” She could barely get the words out. “Can’t you use that as evidence?”
“All he’d have to say is that someone is impersonating him, or that it’s another member of his congregation, or anyone else in the world for that matter. He could also say it’s not his number, and so on and so forth.”
She huffed in frustration, shook her head and tapped her foot. Mama always said hope for the best, but expect the worst. I did. But why does it still feel so bad?
“If he calls you directly, leaves a message, a voicemail, anything like that, something where we can hear his voice, then that’ll help. We need something tangible, Ms. Price. If he comes by your place of work or home, then you can call us right away, and we’ll be over there faster than a tick on a hound dog’s rear end. But you gotta give us something to work with… I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”
“I already know how this works.” Her jaw tightened, painfully so. The muscles practically locked as anxiety and fury soared. “If he comes by my job, he’ll stand on the sidewalk. Y’all will say there’s nothing you can do about it because there’s no active restraining order, and that sidewalk is public property. If he drives past my house… same story…”