“How do two packs of coyotes manage to find enough to eat in the suburbs?”
“Woodland Park used to be the dumping ground for the city’s unwanted pet rabbits. Every year at Easter, parents would buy bunnies for their kids. And every year about a month or two later, after the novelty of cleaning up rabbit turds had worn off, they’d dump them here. The rabbits bred like what they are and overran the neighborhood. Until the coyotes noticed.”
“How did the coyotes even get into this neighborhood to find out that the rabbits were here?”
Verraday shrugged. “That’s the psychology of predators. They’re always out there. We might not see them. But they see us.”
A few minutes later, they pulled up outside the entrance to a low-rise apartment building tucked in between a crowded espresso bar and a harshly lit pho restaurant. Maclean climbed out of the Interceptor. Verraday followed her the few yards to the lobby. She buzzed apartment 205. A moment later the door clicked open.
CHAPTER 6
“Kyle Davis?” asked Maclean.
“That’s me,” said the young man who opened the door.
“I’m Inspector Maclean, and this is my colleague, Dr. James Verraday. We spoke on the phone. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Come on in,” he added, gesturing to the sparse, open-concept apartment.
Kyle Davis appeared to be in his late twenties. He had brown eyes that looked out guilelessly from behind horn-rimmed glasses, his face framed by a neatly trimmed beard and a short-sided pompadour. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans with the cuffs rolled up, exposing a pair of brogues. His home and his workplace appeared to be one and the same. Sitting atop a desk in one corner was a Mac Pro with a large video monitor and a printer, as well as the most expensive laptop that Apple had released that year. Verraday noted a shoji screen at the rear of the flat, behind which was a simple futon and dresser. Whatever money this guy had was going straight into his equipment.
“Have a seat,” said Kyle, gesturing toward three mesh office chairs that seemed more intended for client visits than socializing.
As they sat down, Maclean gazed at the array of equipment.
“You’ve got a lot of gear,” she commented. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a video editor, and I do a bit of animation work too.”
“Sounds interesting. What kind of projects?”
“Ultimately I want to do feature films. But for now, I’m mostly making explainers to pay the bills.”
“Explainers?” asked Maclean.
“They’re short videos, kind of like owner’s manuals, that companies post on their websites and on YouTube to explain how their products or services work. Like how to connect a Bluetooth speaker or do your banking with a mobile app.”
“Too bad they don’t make them to explain why people are the way they are,” said Verraday.
Kyle Davis frowned slightly and sighed. “If they did, I wouldn’t be the guy to write one, that’s for sure.”
He said it like only someone who’s had the stuffing knocked out of him can.
“How long did you know Rachel?” asked Maclean.
“Since June second of this year.”
“You remember the date?” said Verraday.
“It was my niece Tabitha’s birthday,” Kyle replied. “But even if it hadn’t been, it would have been hard to forget it. Rachel had that effect on people.”
Maclean smiled at him gently. “How did you two meet?”
“Actually, it had been a sort of crappy day with a really difficult client. I was on the way to my brother and sister-in-law’s place, and I stopped at this toy store to get something for Tabitha’s birthday. I was feeling stressed ’cause I’d been so busy that week, I hadn’t had a chance to get anything for her. I walked into the store and saw this beautiful girl serving some customers—a boy about six years old and his parents. The boy was comparing these dragons and their different superpowers. The parents looked bored, but the salesgirl was totally into it, having fun with the boy, making him laugh, asking about the superpowers of each dragon, which one was better, and what kind of superpowers he’d pick for himself if he were a dragon.”
Verraday leaned forward in his chair and gazed at Kyle empathetically.
“Rachel must have made quite an impression on you.”
Kyle looked wistful. “Rachel made an impression on everybody. After the boy and his parents left, she came over and asked me if she could help me. I told her about my niece’s birthday, said she was turning five and asked what girls that age like. Because honestly, I wouldn’t have had the faintest clue except that I hoped it wouldn’t be My Little Pony. She asked me a few questions about Tabitha: what she enjoyed doing, what her personality was like. Then she suggested a few possible gifts in different price ranges. She was so into it. Not in the sense of trying to upsell me, but really into it, like she was taking pleasure from thinking about the effect that the gift would have on the person getting it.”