Promise You Won't Tell?

by John Locke

  It all fits.

  If Ethan’s story is true, Parker’s in it up to her eyeballs. According to him, Parker committed all the same crimes. Except there’s no evidence of that. Parker didn’t take any photos. Whatever she did wasn’t witnessed by anyone else. Even if we had the video, it wouldn’t show Parker’s involvement, because according to Ethan, the lights in the room were off until just before the boys entered the room. Either Parker’s the luckiest girl in the world, or…

  Or she knew about the cameras in the room, and how they worked.

  But how’s that possible? Even Kelli didn’t know about the cameras.

  Riley was positive she turned the light on in Kelli’s room that night, before going to use Kelli’s bathroom. If she’s right, someone had to turn off the light before Parker brought Ethan and Ronnie into Kelli’s room. If Parker turned them off, was it before or after entering the room the first time? If after, the video would have shown whatever she might have done.

  God, I wish I had that video!

  I say, “Does anyone else know about Parker’s role in all this?”

  “We don’t think so,” Gavin says.

  “Is her confession admissible?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d rather not go into details.”

  “What if you’re asked by the court?”

  “I’d say she came to my office, and this is what she told me.”

  In addition to putting the fear of God in her, Gavin must have paid her to confess. That doesn’t make her confession false, but it makes it inadmissible. I don’t know if Parker understands that, but her attorney would.

  “Has Parker lawyered up yet?” I ask.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “If she’s charged, she’ll probably deny everything she told you.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Gavin says, “because her attorney will know there’s absolutely no proof. It would come down to her word against Ethan’s. And who’s going to believe him?”

  “So what’s the value of her confession?”

  “It helps me understand how my son could do something so…vile. I’m not condoning what he did. I’m just saying I understand. The boys fucked up. But they’re boys. Yes, they did a terrible thing. But it’s not the same as if they’d been prowling around the house, looking for Riley, only to find her passed out, and then making the conscious, independent decision to take advantage of her.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Can you explain to me how it’s the slightest bit different? It seems to me when Parker walked away they did make the conscious, independent decision to molest her.”

  Gavin says, “I can see it from your viewpoint. I’m just saying the way it went down, it was a lot of temptation to put on two teenage boys after a night of drinking.”

  “None of which improves Riley’s situation.”

  “Which is why I hope you’ll approach her.”

  He hands me a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?”

  “A nondisclosure and confidentiality agreement. It simply states that you agree to keep all dealings between you, me, and Riley, confidential. There are three copies. You can keep one and give one to Riley if you want.”

  I review the document, then sign all three copies, and keep one for myself. Then we all stand up. Before they have a chance to leave, there’s a sharp knock at the door, and a giant space creature suddenly bursts in, holding a see-through plastic baggie containing a woman’s soggy panties. He says, “I saw your light on as I was driving by. Here!”

  “Eric?” I say.

  He shoves the baggie in my hands and runs back out the door.

  I frown, and drop the baggie on the reception desk.

  The four of us stare at it in disbelief.

  Gavin shakes his head and says, “This happens very rarely.”

  “What does?” I say.

  “Every once in a while, when I’m overwhelmed, and think I’m in the world’s most disgusting profession, something like this happens, and I thank God.”

  I frown.

  They leave.

  I take Erica’s panties into the kitchen, spray the crotch, compare them to the other pair in the refrigerator.

  Cobblestone’s right. His wife is cheating on him.

  Do I care?

  Not really. Not now.

  I bag them, tag them, put them in the fridge.

  I’ll care tomorrow. But right now, my heart aches for Riley.

  So I call her.

  “How strong is the friendship between you and Parker?”

  Riley answers, “Why would you ask me that?”

  “I think it’s about to be tested,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “Can we meet?”

  “When?”

  “Right now?”

  “Wow. I don’t know. Things are crazy around here,” she says.

  “Your mom?”

  “That’s part of it. And a police detective wants to talk to me tomorrow.”

  “What time?”

  “Afternoon.”

  “When did your mom find out?”

  “An hour ago. When the news reporters showed up on our front lawn.”

  I feel badly for her. This part I’ve been through, more than once.

  It’s not pleasant.

  “I’m sorry, Riley. That’s awful. For both of you.”

  “I would’ve told her sooner, but I didn’t think they’d identify me so quickly. She’s devastated, of course. This is probably not a great time to meet with you.”

  “I have something important to tell you.”

  “About Parker?”

  “That’s part of it. I met with Ethan and Gavin Clark, and Ronnie.”

  She pauses. Then says, “I asked you to stop pursuing the case.”

  “They contacted me.”

  “But you haven’t spoken to Parker.”

  “No, but she met with Gavin, and according to him, Parker admitted to being deeply involved in what happened to you Saturday night.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear. Parker’s my best friend. On the other hand, Gavin Clark’s a sleaze bucket who’d say anything.”

  “I’m glad to leave Parker out of it. But I do have important news.”

  “Can we discuss it on the phone?”

  “No. And time’s a major factor.”

  “It’s pretty late. I doubt my mom will drive me there.”

  “I can come to you, but we need to talk privately, if possible.”

  “If you come to my house and park out front, we can talk in your car. Would that work?”

  “I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “You know my address?”

  “Please. I’m a private investigator.”

  “Most people have trouble finding my house the first try.”

  I start to say something clever, then realize I don’t need to impress her. She’s already fired me. And there’s this: I don’t know how to work my GPS.

  “Give me the address,” I say.

  I pause. Then add, “And the directions.”

  “There’s one benefit to being a minor,” Riley says.

  “What’s that?”

  “The police forced the camera crews to leave.”

  “That’s good news, at least.”

  I’m happy for her, but mildly surprised, because ten years ago the media hammered me after I escaped from Colin Tyler Hicks’s basement. It got so bad Mom and I had to move away and change our names.

  Riley says, “What’s your big news?”

  We’re in my car, on the street in front of her house. Riley looks remarkably composed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was just another day in her life.

  “I heard you were under a doctor’s care, on suicide watch.”

  “My mom just told the media that so they’d back off. I’m fine.”

  “You look fine,” I say, “though I have no idea how you manage it.”

 
; “What’s my alternative?” she says. “What’s done is done. Time to move past it.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, and feel like I always do when I’m in Riley’s presence: like I’m with someone who’s in complete control. Indeed, now that I think about it, every setback we’ve faced bothered me more than her.

  “You may be seventeen,” I say, “but you’re the most together person I’ve ever met. At any age.”

  She smiles. “I’m a duck.”

  I give her a curious look. “Care to elaborate?”

  “When you see a duck in a pond, the part you see is peaceful, quiet, and serene. But under the surface, his legs are kicking away, churning water. That’s me.”

  “Well, I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks,” she says.

  She looks at me, expectantly.

  I say, “Okay. The reason I’m here, Gavin Clark brought Ethan and Ronnie to my office tonight. They told me their version of what happened.”

  “If I understood you correctly, they implicated Parker.”

  “In a major way. And Gavin said he met with her and she corroborated Ethan’s story. Wait. Are you smiling?”

  “I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s the story Ethan concocted to tell his dad. Parker rehearsed it with him, and when his dad met her, she managed to score ten grand from him to tell it.”

  I frown. “And you’re okay with that?”

  She shrugs. “What do I care? It has nothing to do with me.”

  “What if Parker has to testify?”

  “Then she’ll tell the truth. Ethan gave her the story, his dad paid her ten thousand dollars to repeat it.”

  “She took advantage of him.”

  “Not at all. Parker didn’t make up the story, Ethan did. Parker didn’t call Gavin to sell him a confession, he called her. She agreed to meet him. When she did, he yelled at her and threatened her. In the end he paid her money to tell him what he wanted to hear. Something that would make him feel better about his degenerate son. He probably doesn’t believe it, but it gives him something to hang his hopes on.”

  I study her face. “Who talks like this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you’re intelligent, but you sound like you’re forty years old. Worldly beyond your years.”

  “Thanks. I think. But really, it’s not that big a deal. I saw a girl on TV last night who wrote a complete opera that’s going to be performed by a major symphony. You know how old she is? Seven! Imagine where she’ll be when she’s my age!”

  “You called Parker right after we spoke.”

  “I did. So I could find out what you were talking about. In fact, she and I were still on the phone when you pulled up.”

  “And you’re convinced she didn’t do any of those things?”

  “That’s right. Plus, she didn’t know about the sticker till Ethan concocted the story.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, Riley. I know she’s your friend, but she sounds a bit conniving to me.”

  She smiles. “We’re all conniving, Dani.”

  She notes my confused expression and adds, “We’re teenagers.”’

  “Okay. So anyway, Gavin’s concerned about the case.”

  “I don’t blame him.”

  “Really? Because he makes it sound like you’re going to come away with nothing. According to him, the maximum they’ll get is probation, a hundred hours of community service, and in five years or less, their criminal records will be expunged.”

  “Which is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “On the one hand you say he’s concerned about the case. On the other, you say he’s got nothing to worry about. Which one’s more likely to be accurate?”

  “The first. He’s worried.”

  “Has he instructed you to make me an offer?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Rich people always try to buy their way out of trouble. What’s the offer?”

  I look her in the eyes before responding, so I can enjoy her reaction. Then I say, “One million dollars. Cash.”

  “In return for what?”

  I stare at her in disbelief. She didn’t even flinch. I just offered a financially-strapped, seventeen-year-old girl a million dollars and she didn’t bat an eye.

  “Gavin’s going to ask the court to limit the criminal charges to voyeurism. But he knows your attorney will want to add sexual assault.”

  “So if I can talk my attorney out of the sexual assault charge, Gavin will pay me a million dollars?”

  “Yes. He says it’s coming from Ethan’s trust fund.”

  “He’s assuming I’ll jump at the offer, since I can’t sue Ethan or Ronnie in civil court.”

  “Exactly. So, what do you think?”

  She says, “I think the offer’s a bit light.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Tell him I’ll take five million. Nothing less.”

  My eyes grow wide.

  She laughs. “I’m serious, Dani. Tell him he’s got twenty-four hours to come up with the money.”

  After picking my jaw up from the floor I say, “Riley, I don’t even know how that type of transaction would work.”

  “Remember the charity I told you about? The one I started last year? It’s a small charity that helps underprivileged kids get scholarships to private schools. I’ve only raised a few thousand dollars so far, but it’s a qualified charity. When Gavin’s ready to make a contribution, I’ll give you the details.”

  “Just to be clear: you don’t want him to write you a check. You want him to make a five million dollar donation to your charity?”

  “That’s right.”

  I pause a moment, then say, “I’ll deliver the news.”

  “You don’t think he’ll go for it, do you?” She says.

  “Honestly? No.”

  She nods. Then says, “Do you have something to take notes with?”

  “I do. Why?”

  “I’m going to tell you a little story that will mean something to Gavin.”

  She waits for me to get a pen and notebook from my glove compartment, then says, “For years I’ve been doing odd jobs to make extra money. Like babysitting, assisting elderly people with chores, running errands for them, and so forth. A couple of years ago I was cleaning out an elderly lady’s attic.”

  She pauses, then says, “Mona Elkins.”

  She waits till I write the name. Then says, “Before she retired, Mona used to be Allison Clark’s personal assistant. Allison was Gavin’s first wife, the one he married before the trophy one. I took care of Mona one summer, and over time, we bonded. One of my projects was cleaning out her attic. I did a box or two every day for two months. I meticulously went through every piece of paper, reviewed every item with her before putting it in the throw-away pile. At some point we realized I was attending the same school as her former employer’s son, Ethan.”

  She waits for me to catch up. Then says, “Imagine my surprise the day I found two copies of Ethan’s birth certificates among Mona’s possessions.”

  I say, “Did you mean to use the plural?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t either, at first. So I asked Mona about it. And you know what she said?”

  “What?”

  “She said, ‘Promise you won’t tell?’”

  Riley winks at me.

  “What?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

  I look at her.

  She says, “Tell Gavin I’ve kept my promise to Mona. So far.”

  I frown. “You’re not going to tell me what Mona said?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  “I want you to be able to honestly say you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “But Gavin will?”

  “Gavin definitely will.”

  I sigh. “I’ll deliver the news.”

/>   “Dani?”

  “Yes?”

  “He’s paying you, right?”

  “No. He offered to, but I declined.”

  “Why?”

  “I told him I was on your side.”

  She smiles. “You’re a good friend, but you should get something out of it.”

  “I just want your life to get better.”

  “When my charity gets going, I hope you’ll let me hire you to do background screening on the applicants and their families.”

  “I’d like that. Thanks.”

  I laugh.

  She says, “What’s so funny?”

  “Yesterday I offered you a job. Now you’re offering me one.”

  “What a difference a day makes, right?”

  “Excuse me?” Gavin says. “She said no? She’s turning down a million dollars? What the hell did she say, exactly?”

  “She said a million dollars seemed light.”

  “Light? What the fuck does that mean?”

  “She wants five million.”

  He laughs a full minute. Laughs so hard his body shakes. Laughs so hard he has to dab the tears from his eyes. When he finally stops laughing, he says, “There’s got to be more, and I can’t wait to hear it. What else did she say?”

  This time I’m in Gavin’s office. We’re alone.

  I say, “She told me a story.”

  “What story?”

  “I can’t do it justice, but I took notes.”

  I remove the notepad from my handbag and say, “She’s been doing odd jobs for years. Mostly caring for the elderly, in their homes. Running errands, cleaning attics, and such. One summer she worked for a lady named Mona Elkins, who…”

  Up till now, Gavin was semi-reclining in his chair, showing me an indulgent smile as he waited patiently for me to get to the point. Now his chair’s upright. His smile a memory.

  “I know that name,” he says. “Mona Elkins.” He furrows his brow. “How do I know that name?”

  “Before retiring, she was your ex-wife’s personal assistant.”

  Gavin’s face moves from curious to concerned.

  “And how does this happy coincidence affect Riley’s case?”

  “I honestly don’t know. But she gave me a message for you, and said you’d understand.”