by Trace Conger
"And why in the hell would you want to go back to that shitty work?"
"Because it's easier on the nerves. Since taking my practice underground I've been smacked around and shot at more times that I can count." I swirled the paper cup in my hand. "Thanks for shooting at me by the way. Back at the strip mall."
"I wasn't aiming for you." He smiled. "And that shitty blue tarp saved Turner's life. I'd have plugged him had I been able to see him."
"Point is, I kinda like breathing, so maybe doing corporate PI work or chasing down cheating spouses or workers comp cheats is a wiser career move. Beats looking behind you all the time watching for monsters. Or rotting away in prison for associating with the likes of you."
"You think that envelope is going to make your world a safer place? Keep the monsters at bay? Nothing is going to change that. Evil is all around us. The difference between people like us and the rest of the world? We can see it." He pointed around the room. "They can't."
I didn't say anything.
Little Freddie stood up. "Suit yourself, Finn. Seems like a boring existence to me. Either way, I'll see you around." With that he winked, turned and walked out of the coffee shop.
I was about to head to the counter for a refill when my phone buzzed on the table.
"Is this Roger Mathers?"
"Yes, it is. Who's this?"
"Nell Richards. From Parkersburg."
"Hi Nell. I just read your article on Thomas Vance. Glad to see he's on his way down."
"Me too. I'll be following that one closely. I found something you might be interested in. For your book research."
"Whatcha got?"
"So after talking to you, I went back to the Sentinel offices. Into the archives. I found my notes from the Baker trial. You had asked me earlier if one of the boys was a ringleader. So I found my transcripts from Dr. Hutchinson, the psychologist who testified during the trial. He told me off the record he was convinced Turner was the one responsible for the murder. He interviewed both kids and he said Turner led the charge. He said that Vance admitted purposefully missing when he threw rocks at Josh. Apparently Vance also had bruises from a beating he took from Turner."
"None of that was in the case file," I said.
"Because it never came out in court. Hutchinson testified to the boys' state of mind, but since they were tried together and since the boys never took the stand, no one ever asked him about who did what. It was just assumed that both kids went at it together."
"And you're sure he disagreed with that?"
"I'm positive," said Nell. "I have it right here in my notes. He said he'd stake his career on Turner being the alpha and Vance just following out of fear and intimidation. I found his contact information. He's retired but he might still talk to you if you want. That side of the story never came out, so if you're looking for a fresh angle this might be it."
"Thanks for the call, Nell, but I think I'm going to scrap the book. With Vance dead and Turner MIA I've got little to go on."
"Not even with the recent developments?"
"It makes for a good news story, but I can't sustain it for an entire book. Of course, you're welcome to run with it if you like."
"I'm enjoying retirement too much." She laughed. "I plan to follow the Thomas Vance case and file a few more pieces for the paper as a contributor, but doubt it'll go any further than that."
"What does special correspondent mean anyway?"
"It means they don't pay you." She laughed again. "Take care."
"You too."
I clicked off the phone and finished the last bit of coffee in my cup. I picked up the white envelope and rubbed it between my fingers.
I didn't know if Turner played me or not. I was convinced Vance ran the show back then and that Turner was just caught up in it all. Maybe Dr. Hutchinson was wrong, maybe not. I'd never know. I'd never know what happened that day thirty-two years ago, and I didn't want to. Sometimes it's better to forget, even if that means letting the voices fall silent and leaving the monsters far behind.
I stood up from the table, ripped the white envelope in half and dropped it into the stainless steel garbage can before walking outside.
As I walked toward my car, I approached a woman opening her station wagon's rear door. Two children bounded out and she quickly took hold of their wrists and checked for traffic. She offered me an awkward smile and I nodded back.
I wanted to believe I had levied some justice that went unserved so long ago, but the only thing I knew for certain was Josh's murder was proof that pure evil existed. It truly existed and it was capable of entering our safe little lives anytime it wanted and destroying us from the inside out. Maybe I didn't fully bring justice to Josh Baker, but it didn't mean I couldn't do it for someone else.
A NOTE FROM
THE AUTHOR
Click here to receive updates on my work.
REVIEWS FROM READERS LIKE YOU play a huge part in helping me spread the word about my fiction. If you liked this novel, please consider taking a few minutes to leave a review here. I greatly appreciate your time and your kind words.
If you'd like to learn more about my work, contact me, or sign up for updates and free fiction head over to www.traceconger.com.
Trace Conger
Cincinnati, Ohio
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS NOVEL WOULD NOT HAVE been possible without the generous support of several individuals. I’d like to thank the following people for their direct and indirect involvement in giving this project life:
Andrew Bockhold, Christine Grote, Scott High and Greg Petersen for reading and providing valuable feedback on early drafts; Elizabeth A. White for her editing expertise and taking these words to a higher level; Doug Hunter for being a sounding board and PI consultant; and Holly Hentz for her medical knowledge and continued friendship.
And a very special thank you to Beth Conger for her continued love, support and encouragement, and for letting me pretend to be a writer.
My sincere thanks to each of you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TRACE CONGER IS AN AWARD-WINNING author in the crime, thriller, and suspense genres. Prior to writing full time, he worked as a publicist, a copywriter, and a freelance writer. He lives in Cincinnati with his wonderfully supportive family.
Visit Trace online at:
www.traceconger.com
www.facebook.com/tracecongerauthor
www.twitter.com/TraceConger