Male approached by two unidentified women in their 40s. Microphone picked up below exchange:
Male:…Look at Bibi go! Better get to her. Have a great day!
(Male moves out of range of microphone.)
Woman One:Jesus, how is he so hot?
Woman Two:It’s obscene, isn’t it? That jawline.
Woman One:The way that shirt strains over his torso.
Woman Two:My husband has a beer belly he can rest a pint on.
Woman One:You ever spoken to his wife?
Woman Two:When she’s here, she sits alone on that bench with her sunglasses on, staring at her phone. Looks like a bit of a bitch.
Woman One:One lucky bitch, though. Imagine waking up to that every morning.
Woman Two:Oh, I wouldn’t waste time sleeping. God, the things—
(Women continued to discuss FC’s body. Nothing relevant.)
Male subject and daughter (BC) spent two hours at playground. Male told BC it was time to leave eight times. Male told BC she’d lost her walking-home snack for not listening. Stayed at playground further twenty minutes. Male gave BC snack as they walked home.
February 28
4:45 a.m.: Female subject had an altercation with male driver in BMW who cut her off.
Microphone (and everyone in surrounding area) picked up the below exchange:
Female:Are you fucking blind? You saw I was going for that space!
BMW driver:Babe, it’s every man for himself.
Female:Babe? Seriously?
Female exits vehicle and goes to BMW driver’s open window. She leans through it. She speaks softly into his ear. Audio not picked up. BMW driver accelerates out of space and car park.
Obtained car park CCTV from several different angles. No confirmed line of sight of Female showing the driver a weapon.
Chapter Twelve
Fox
“You are in control ofyour destiny.”
“Life is not random.”
Speaking daily affirmations aloud was a new technique I was trying out to keep my anxiety at bay. I hadn’t shared this with Haze, as she’d either laugh at me until she cried, or have me committed.
It had been one of Sally’s ideas to help me remain calm in between sessions. The low, steady voice uttering these nuggets of wisdom apparently belonged to Dr. William Tipton, aka Doc Willie, an American psychotherapist with a near cult-like following.
I parked outside Sally’s office and paused the audio. I had felt no discernible positive effects from repeating these affirmations, but maybe repetition was the key. There was, however, a nagging feeling that Doc Willie was able to genuinely believe the phrase “You are in control of your destiny” because he had not met my wife.
As soon as I had sat down in the white cloud chair opposite her, Sally got straight to it.
“Let’s revisit the event.”
