Chapter Sixteen

3 0 0
                                    

Knock. Knock. Knock!

Sunlight streams through the east window and I wake to a clatter. Two police detectives in suit jackets wait outside. O.P.P. Sergeant Evan Laredo raps his knuckles on the doorframe, and Detective Owen Lafleur peeks in the window. I'm still wearing Tanya's jean shorts and wrinkled blue top and so I don't need to dress to greet them at the door.

"Antonia Petti? You remember me from yesterday?" The stubble-chinned blue-eyed sergeant reintroduces himself and his partner, "I'm Sergeant Evan Laredo with the Ontario Provincial Police. This is Detective Owen Lafleur," and when I don't answer right away, he scratches his chin and reflects on my appearance, "I must say, I'm a little surprised."

"To find me here?"

"I thought you'd be out with the others," Laredo gestures toward the barn. "It's after nine."

"It is?" Mamma Mia as my mother would say. I never sleep-in. I rise at dawn on most days because I use the city's morning sunbeams in my videos. It must be all the exercise, the fresh air and healthy food. I overslept.

Tanya's moleskin journal lies on the bed, half-under the covers. I hope these detectives don't notice, or they'll take it from me. I'm not scared of the police, but I'm disappointed with myself for being cornered and questioned here in my cabin. Lawmen visiting my planned bait-house greatly tarnishes the whole scheme. My trap is less likely to work because now the perp will conclude I've already given over any significant findings.

"We'd like to ask you some questions Antonia, if you're able." Owen Lafleur asks politely. He's the same age as Laredo, but unlike his rugged partner, he's pudgy with a round face and jowls.

"Go on," I sit on the bed and wait. Lafleur peeks inside to check the corners of the cabin, but he doesn't enter because this horse pen isn't big enough for all of us.

"I saw the CBC story about you. I made Owen drive so I could watch. You're pretty interesting," Sgt. Laredo smirks at me. "I can't imagine what you did on this farm all day yesterday. After you told me you were hired." He grins at Lafleur. I wait for a question. "But I'm pretty sure you were... Well, you know, doing your thing."

"And what's that?" I sense Sgt. Laredo is frightened of my ability to bring major media attention. Police are quick to befriend me once they learn why I have so many YouTube followers. I'm a Canadian Chart Rights auditor and social justice warrior. Law enforcement types share horror stories about hemming-up activists like me. When such a detention is caught on video, their dispatch gets drowned with angry callers and their email inboxes and Facebook pages get flooded with hateful rants. Canadian police cannot simply delete angry comments on their Facebook pages either because it's considered a public forum. So, the department's community page becomes an open wound filled with complaints against offending personnel. That could be what the sergeant ponders as he clutches his notebook and pen.

"You told me you were hired here?" Sgt. Laredo finally challenges me.

"Yes. I was err, am. Hired. Here."

"Or were you really just prowling to record more video?" Detective Owen Lafleur purses his puffy lips and squints to convey some skepticism.

"No. I wasn't."

"Toni. Would you help me if you could?" The good sergeant attempts the we're-on-the-same-side police interrogation tactic. I smile because I've seen the TPS training manual and the cartoon drawing in which the interrogator poses that very question to a witness. It's human nature to want to help, and most interview subjects will readily comply; that's the first step in developing a Police Informant. I wave it off to let him know he's going to have to do better. I have a question for them.

Toni Petti - Horse Girl HomicideWhere stories live. Discover now