THE DRUGGING & RAPE OF SUSAN HUNTER - CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5 

It’s less than two months after the rape. April 16th. I’m asleep in bed. It’s around 2 in the morning. I hear Ed and his on again/ off again girlfriend come in the front door of the building. We hadn’t talked since the rape. I told him we couldn’t talk because of the investigation. I was mad at him for a lot of things and I was debating on letting him back into my life. Was it a series of bad judgment calls on his part that was just plain stupidity? Could he have really helped the rapist get me back to the apartment building with no idea of what was going on? If he was really my friend, how could he have said I was wrong when I told him about the rape? He told me to my face he was the one who invited Naylor back to the building “to check him out”. He never once said anything about what Naylor told me in the pre text phone call, and why he had Naylor’s phone number. The disgusting texts I had to read when I came to after the rape. My gut was suspicious about how all of this was panning out. Why was he holding back the truth?

According to Ed, he had told me I wasn’t capable of standing up when all three of us were back at the building. That Naylor was the one who had to unlock my door. Naylor said he had to pee and went into my place to use my toilet. Ed tried to tell him to use his place because I was saying I didn’t want to sleep with him, that I just wanted to pass out, and then I would say I do want to have sex with him. That seemed odd to me. If a friend was hooking up with someone, I wouldn’t tell the person they were going to have sex with to use my bathroom. Ed said I got up and went into my place. He says he asked me if I was sure. I laughed and slammed the door. He said I had flipped flopped about wanting to sleep with Naylor the whole night. None of this sits right with me. I don’t flip flop. I do or I don’t. Ed was supposed to have my back. He should have told Naylor he wasn’t allowed back at the first sign of doubt that Ed had. He didn’t. He says he egged us on about making out. Two beers and a shot are not going to put me into a blackout. I had never acted like this before. Ed either was more concerned about getting back to his place, or knew more about what was going on than he led on. Naylor didn’t have a job that I was aware of. If he had access to date rape drugs, I’m going to guess he has access to other drugs too. That’s probably what Ed was interested in.

Ed had been doing more and harder drugs in the last couple of years. I figured it was a phase he would get over. He had just started a new job. The front door of the building slams. Ed comes in with on again off again girlfriend. “I didn’t rape you” they yell playfully at each other. They stomp up the stairs, outside my door, “Fuck you”, they yell at each other, and to me, thru my door. They walk down the hall giggling at each other. I am mortified. I lay in my bed unable to believe what just happened. How could he do that to me? How could he tell her what happened to me? I have never really liked his on again off again girlfriend. They would get into fights at 7 in the morning and she would end up standing outside my door screaming back down the hall at him. I asked him multiple times to not do that. Keep the fighting inside your place, or outside. She thinks the only way to communicate is loudly. She is obnoxious and immature at best. I wouldn’t put it past the both of them to do this. It’s been decided for me. Ed is out of my life.

A weight is lifted off of me. He texted me the next day. I responded that I was angry, angry with him inviting Naylor back, angry with the text messages I had to wake up to after the rape, angry that he and his girlfriend thought they had a right to do this outside my door when what I need is comfort and support and healing. I can’t say anything about the pre text phone call. Ed doesn’t know I know about it, and that he wasn’t telling me or probably the detectives the whole truth. A texting fight ensued and the friendship was ended. I thought. A few days later a barrage of text messages started up. One hour on the 23rd and one hour on the 24th. 40 text messages in total he sent me. They were horrible. I call the police. Come to the Hollywood police station and we will get a restraining order put in place. I was so exhausted when I called I told them a guy who used to be a friend that helped the guy who raped me to get me home won’t stop texting me. I sound crazy. I know I do. How do I explain all of this to anyone in a timely and calm manner and have them understand.

The dispatcher was horrified. I get dressed and walk to the Hollywood police station. It’s only a few blocks away. The uniformed officer behind the desks hears my sobbing story. I’m finally starting to calm down. He comes back out with the report paperwork and says he is trying to get a special restraining order for trying to persuade or intimidate a witness. He could be in jail today. Then the SCU detective at their station calls me into the back room. I should have seen it coming. My advocate tells me anytime I have to go to a station to call her first. It’s early and I’m there for a restraining order. I didn’t think to call her first. She probably isn’t awake yet.

“Ms. Hunter, they didn’t find any drugs in your system. You weren’t drugged, you weren’t raped, and you’re mistaken”. Hi shock, how have you been? It’s been what, a week? Yes, much too long. I’m sobbing again. He is so mean when he says it. “I’m not lying”, I tell him. “I never said the word lie, I said you were mistaken. You have sex with this guy and now you want us to go after him?” “These are all lies”. I’m getting hysterical at the thought of another man telling me I’m wrong again and not believing me. I’m slamming my fists into the desk. “The first time was consensual, the second time wasn’t”. “You need to calm down Ms. Hunter, your yelling and being hysterical”. Of course I am. The name of the cop I used to date is posted on some paperwork on the wall. He has been promoted to detective. He is probably in this office somewhere hearing me be hysterical. If he is, he does nothing to help me. “The test is wrong, it didn’t find the THC so it can’t be trusted” I inform him thru tears. “Well, I’m not a scientist, but the test says there are no drugs in your system”. “Then you’re not a scientist and you can’t just believe what parts of the test you want to, the test is wrong, there should be THC there too.” “Well, it doesn’t matter about the drug test anyway; you gave us a bogus number for the rapist. It’s a cold case; there is nothing we can do to find him” He tells me angrily.

“These are all lies, you can find him, you just don’t want to”. I’m somewhere between anger and hysterical. “What if the tables were turned Ms. Hunter, what if he drank to a blackout and tried to say you raped him?” I replied” Well, if you were the cops looking into it then I wouldn’t be worried because I would know I would get away with it. What I should be doing is buying drugs and murdering or robbing people because I would get away with it, I guess working a real job is pointless”. I storm out. They trashed my report. Det. M is emailing me. He wants a fresh start. I email him back. If you want me to trust you, help me get a restraining order. Nothing he can do about that, but he did call the rape center to see what they could do. The piece of shit worthless asshole. Your legal, not them I replied. All of these detectives can go fuck themselves. I know fourteen year old girls with better empathy and detective skills than the crap I have had to put up with from the LAPD. I have to go downtown to the courthouse and get a restraining order on my own. My friend S had recently resurfaced in my life. She had been thru a lot and was doing really good. I was glad to have her back in my life. I am so distraught. She tells me how to block Ed's number so he can’t text me. Block him on face book too she says. I do. Thank God that the barrage is over. He still lives in the building up the hall from me. I have seen him escalate in a fight and slam a woman into a wall before. I don’t want that to happen to me. S goes with me. She picks me up from work the next day and takes me downtown. She had been thru so much, she pulls into a parking lot and the attendant knows her. She doesn’t have to pay. It is a three hour ordeal. At one point S is chanting,”Be aggressive, be be aggressive”. She keeps a grin on my face.

At one courtroom we have to run in to get in line. The system is so screwed up. To make people race like that. The paperwork is overwhelming. It has to be submitted to the judge on the 7th floor before 3:15. We get in there at 3. The bailiff looks over my paperwork. It needs more detail he says. I start sobbing. The last three days have been Hell again. His eyes get big. He tells S to help me. It’s been four rooms, three lines, and two people telling me there is nothing I can do to fight the system. You can’t take on the hive that is the LAPD. Even to stop a rapist. The court approves the restraining order. It’s a temporary one until the court date. Both of us have to appear and stand before the judge and I have to explain why the court order should stand. I have until five days before the court date to serve the notice, and then turn in a copy of the order with a proof of service to any police station. S gladly tells the bailiff she will serve him. We get back to my place. I grab a bag and pack it to stay with S for a few days after the serve. She stands outside his door. He talks to her but won’t open the door. We call the Sheriffs who say to hire a service. We leave and go to S’s place. She finds someone and gives him her address. He shows up that night. I hand him the paperwork and $50 in cash. He emails me a receipt right away. It is raining again. Big raindrops. He knows this service stems from a rape. My rape. “God bless you" he says as he walks away in the big rain drops. It’s done, I think to myself. I’m not sure what to feel.

My friend S rescues dogs now. “Pick one”, she says. All kinds are here in a place much better than where they came from. Some are waiting to fly out in the next week to other states. Some are sick or special needs. One has a missing eye. He and the pit bull mix are my living blankets. They sweetly lick the tears off my face. I’m back at home thinking everything is ok. My life feels like it’s starting to get back to normal. One down and three to go, I tell myself. One person who thought they could wrong me is out of my life. Now I just have two detectives and a rapist to focus on. The last thing I hear from the detectives is they have an outside service they are using to get to Naylor’s background. It’s not a cold case. It will take at least a month. The next day that I’m at work is a good one. I’m happy. I haven’t been happy like this in a while. Then S texts me. She found the defendants copy of the notice in her house. I call the server and email him. Nothing. I start panicking. I call the sheriffs, nothing they can do. I call the courthouse. I get directed to someone. Nothing they can do. “Please” I beg “please tell me what I can do to fix this”. I have three days including today to get him served. I can feel the court clerks eyes roll over the phone. “You have extra copies, right? They gave you one for your home, one for your car and one to keep on you at all times. Just print out a new proof of service form, give him one of your copies, and give the police another one. You only really need one for yourself. The proof of service is the most important part”. I thank him for the information.

How could the processor do this to me? I had a receipt, his website looked legit, and he knew the terminology. How could he take my $50 and never serve Ed. I looked at the address on the receipt and went there. It was raining again. What was up with the rain and the really bad days? It was an apartment building. I was outside the gate scanning the numbers for the call box. A David D was listed for the number. Another tenant went in and I snuck in behind him. I got to the door and there was no doorknob. I wasn’t the only angry person that had been here. The light was shining thru the peephole. That means no one lives there. No window treatments. My friend S calls. She has been calling him. She got thru as he told her there were computer problems and hung up on her. He did the same to me and responded to David when he answered the phone. I sent him a text. What else could I do? I have a rape I still haven’t dealt with let alone fighting with two detectives in the LAPD hive that wanted to let the rapist walk. I’m trying to serve someone that used to be a friend that did nothing to stop my being raped and now is on the rapist side. What am I really going to do about this guy and my $50? Nothing.

One of the guys I work with says he will serve Ed. He knows some of what is going on. Z knew something was up after the rape and pressed me about it one more time out of concern. I told him the jumbled basics thru tears. I print out the necessary paperwork and Z served him the next day. I was so grateful it was done. I was shaking. Z will forever be a personal hero to me. So for right now, here’s where I am at. I have a court date against someone that used to be a friend who took the side of a rapist. I have overcome so much already, but I have prepared myself for the worst. The most likely outcome is this guy walks and there is nothing I can do about it. I have fought every part of this that I can. I know who my amazing friends are that have stuck with me thru this craziness. I have a hard time in crowds, especially with a lot of strange men standing around me. It’s scary for me. I also have a hard time understanding what people mean when they say things. It’s hard to explain, but I take things the wrong way at first and I have to ask more questions to see what they really mean. I constantly look behind me terrified that one of these days I will turn around and Naylor will be behind me. But the only thing I can do is fight.