Overcome with emotion, I had to get out of the car and stretch my legs. I put my phone in my back pocket, grabbed my coffee and sunglasses, and began a stroll down the sidewalk. I wondered how many times Ryan ran down this very sidewalk on his way to the beach; hurt and seeking solace and needing help. I took a few deep breaths before I got back to my SUV and got back inside. It started getting warm, so I rolled down the window for some freshair.
Around 3:30, three cars pulled up. I could tell by the additional lights on the side mirrors and on the grills, that these were unmarked police cars. I set my coffee down, grabbed my cell phone, and opened up the camera app. As I got out of my car, a clearly marked Los Angeles Police Department car pulled up behind the unmarked cars. The two uniformed officers exited that car and joined the plain-clothed officers. Each of the plain-clothed officers had a visible badge, and they began to move toward the home. I turned on the video recorder of my phone and leaned against the hood of my car. I aimed the phone at the house, ready to see the piece of shit that continued to hurt myRyan.
In all, there were eight officers that I could see, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few more on the street behind the house in case Chad tried to run. My heart pounded in my chest as the officers were stationed at various points on the porch and front yard while they waited for Chad to open the door. Thankfully, their voices carried out to where I hadbeen.
“Chad Hudson?” a plain-clothed officer asked as the dooropened.
There he was. The piece of shit that recorded unthinkable acts with my Ryan and tormented him foryears.
“Yeah?” the piece of shitreplied.
“I have a warrant to search your premises for suspected underagepornography.”
They didn’t wait for a reply at that point, they simply went inside. Six officers went in, while the other two stayed outside. Two additional marked vehicles showed up, and the four officers that exited the cars went inside. I leaned my elbow on the hood of my car to help hold the phone still because I started to notice the video I was recording wasjumping.
I stood upright when an officer opened the screen door, and three plain-clothed officers emerged, each carrying a few boxes. They set the boxes on the grass while another officer went to the trunk of one of the cars and got some large, clear plastic bags.Evidence bags.As I watched more officers bring out a laptop and an old computer, I found myself shaking; the adrenaline was taking over. They were going to get this fucker. No more texts toRyan.
Officers were bagging the evidence on the grass as officers exited the house with Chad Hudson in handcuffs. I made sure my phone followed the officers with Chad to the squad car and then as it drovepast.
He was gone, and now my boy could rest easier knowing that he wouldn’t wake up to an onslaught of shit from his past. I stayed for a little while and watched as the officers bagged the boxes of what appeared to be DVDs and even old VHS tapes. It was going on 5:00 p.m. and I had one last stop to make before I headed back to Vegas, but first, I needed somefood.
I found a known chain restaurant close by on the GPS and took in the portfolio that I brought from home. While I waited for my meal, I went over everything to make sure that I had it ready. After I ate, I checked my phone; nothing fromRyan.
Russell: How is your day, my boy? Mine has been long, but good. I will talk to you soon. I loveyou.
God, I lovedhim.
The cell signal was so terrible though that my text to Ryan failed to send the four times I attempted to send it. I gathered the portfolio and headed to the Ventura Senior Home. On a map, the place didn’t look that far from where I was at, but with the traffic, it turned into almost a forty-minutejaunt.
As I walked inside, I reminded myself that his mother had been mentally ill since his childhood and now was in the throes of dementia. None the less, things needed to be said. I approached the front desk and said that I was there to see ElizabethHudson.
“May I see your identification?” the lady behind the desk asked with asmile.
“Of course,” I replied and produced my driver’slicense.
“Yourrelation?”
None, thankGod.
“I’m a good friend of hersons.”
The lady nodded and then took a photocopy of myI.D.
“Mrs. Hudson actually just finished dinner and is still sitting right over there. I’ll walk youover.”
I followed the woman to a table that had a few ladies sitting at it. I hadn’t seen a picture of Ryan’s mother, so I wasn’t certain which of the seemingly harmless ladies was thedevil.
“Elizabeth, you have a guest,” the woman announced with asmile.
All of the women looked up at me, and then a few laughs broke out amongthem.
“Well, Liz, we’re going to the movie room. You enjoy your dessert,” one ladychuckled.
“We’ll get up so this tall drink of water can have a seat,” the other older ladysaid.
They probably had no clue what a horrid person Elizabeth Hudson was. As they meandered away with the lady from the front desk, they continued theirchatter.
“I think that was PaulNewman.”
