by Brad Cooper
Lisa had been awake for eighteen straight hours and the fatigue was getting the best of her. She’d gone through the normal bedtime routine; the shower, brushing her teeth, changing into her pajamas. It was the same drill every night. She preferred structure over chaos. Now, as if the drowsiness weren’t enough, she was unable to sleep. Lisa needed silence, and the silence to which she had grown accustomed was being broken. She couldn’t make out what was being said from where she lay in bed, a wall and a couple of hundred feet was between her and the source, but the noise alone was enough of a disruption to prevent her from drifting into a comfortable eight hours of slumber.
Frustrated, she rose from her bed and walked out of her bedroom, through her kitchen, and onto the small concrete porch outside of the back door. Even from a distance, with no barriers to block the sound, she was now able to make out pieces of the speech. She saw two men, both clearly in police uniform, standing to the side of the police station in the edge of the light coming from a lamp posted on the wall of the building. She glanced more to the left and saw two more men, both dressed casually, blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt, but with a holstered firearm on their hip. Then her attention was drawn to what truly seemed out of place and yet had been seen, by her no less, no more than three or four hours prior. The helicopter she had seen earlier was now directly in her line of sight.
The voices grew louder and she strained to listen as closely as possible. Disjointed pieces of sentences made their way to her ears, enough to show her that a discussion had devolved into an argument and was dangerously close to becoming heated beyond return. Lisa, still a relative newcomer to the town, was unable to identify anyone at first glance, but the average height, sturdily built man was easily identifiable as he stepped more toward what little light was available. She met him on her first day in Spring Creek when asking for directions. It was the police chief, Darrell Sparks.
Lisa still could not catch any complete sentences but she distinctly heard the phrase “I don’t care…” before Sparks grabbed the arm of the figure trying to walk away. Lisa wondered why the argument had started and where it would end, or how. The tension mounted with every moment that passed, albeit quite a distance away.
The men seemed almost certain to come to blows, if not worse. Fueled by curiosity and an unresolved fleeting interest in investigative journalism, her first move was to retrieve something that had been useful only hours earlier but now for an entirely different purpose.
“Ray, just slow down and listen to me. Maybe there are a few other things you need to hear right now. You’re just not looking at this the right way, I don’t think. Let’s all just calm down a minute,” Sparks said, guiding Kessler back to the area they occupied before he attempted to walk away.
“I am calm, Darrell. I’m looking at this just fine. It’s you and these other guys that aren’t thinking clearly,” Kessler said, gesturing toward all of them at once.
“Did you ever think of the good this could do for our community, Ray?”
Kessler could hardly speak. “Good? Good? For our community? What in the world are you talking about, Darrell? You’re telling me that this could be good for us somehow?” He spoke expressively with his hands. “One kid has already been killed and it’s been a week! Good? I don’t know how. Tell me. Just tell me! Tell me!”
“Chief, maybe…” Lilly tried to say.
“Just wait a second, Carl.”
“Whatever you say,” Lilly said, holding up both hands to signal his surrender as he turned and walked away.
“Let’s think about this. We got all this stuff coming in here now. All of it’s not staying in Spring Creek. Some of it’s gettin’ sold in other places. Maybe over in Charleston or Huntington, across the river in Kentucky and Ohio, maybe even down in Virginia or something. Maybe even further away than that. We don’t know for sure. Do we, Ray?” Sparks asked.
“Well, no, but…”
“But nothing. We help them out by making sure nothing bad happens and we get some of the benefits. They’ll make something like fifty grand for a shipment of whatever they got here, and our little fee, I guess it is, is ten percent. That’s five thousand bucks, split it five ways and it’s a grand a piece, every time. Can’t complain ‘bout that, now. Can you?”
“Fine. Yeah, money. I told you that money won’t convince me. That’s good for us but you said good for this town.”
“Okay, Ray, hang on now. You didn’t let me finish yet. Let’s say we do that a few times. Four or five, maybe more. All of us could pocket eight or nine thousand bucks total and that ain’t never hurt nobody. Right?” Sparks asked rhetorically before looking around, checking for any sign of the Tochigis or Sato before continuing. “We do it a few times and then we all get out. Get out clean,” he said in a lower voice. “This is not a long-term gig. We know it and they know it.”
“How, Chief? How? They’re just gonna let you out of this, knowing what you know?”
“They don’t have a choice. Don’t worry. We’ve been thinking about this already. We get our hands a little dusty and our wallets get a little thicker. We make sure they ain’t got nothing on us; no papers, no recordings or something. No proof right? Then, we start up a little investigation or something and call in the feds.” Amick and Lilly stood ominously behind Sparks, one over each shoulder, glaring at the only member of the group to balk.
“The feds? You mean turn them in?” Kessler asked. He wondered about his boss’ motives.
“DEA would love something like this. Little small town cops bust a big drug ring from Japan or wherever these people come from. We’ll be on Fox News and CNN for a while, maybe one of the morning shows or something. It’ll put us in the papers, get a nice reward from the feds, and everybody wins.”
“Everybody? What about the kid? Or how about the people you’re turning in? Or all the other crap you’re bringing in here? Where does it stop? No. No, you still ain’t convincing…”
“Kid, you’re troubling me. You’re not listening to me and I’m not liking the way you’re talking either.”
Lisa ran quietly into the house and emerged seconds later carrying her video camera. Logic and reasoning was not part of the process at the moment, only the instinct to grab the camera just in case things got out of hand.
It might be important, she thought. Maybe the police will need it later. Maybe the news stations could use it.
She didn’t recognize the two plainclothes men and their body language became more hostile as each second passed. The smallest of the four men was now surrounded and she could see the threat being posed to him, although it seemed that he was unable see it himself.
Inching forward, Lisa stopped and crouched only a foot from the bank of the creek, no more than a hundred feet from the officers embroiled in the discussion. Her navy blue pajamas concealed her like camouflage would in the dark of night. She was unsure of whether or not the camera’s microphone would clearly pick up the sound of their voices but she could hear them perfectly herself from where she crouched.
Lisa glanced down long enough to power up her camera and activated the necessary features. Her camcorder was equipped with a low-light feature that did not produce picture perfect video in a dark setting such as this but certainly improved on the normal quality. The light coming from the wall lamp on the building combined with the night vision, of sorts, provided decent video output. She heard the words being spoken but they made little sense out of context. She was only able to gather that something was happening outside of their duty as law enforcement officials, something that they wanted to keep under wraps.
But what is it, she wondered.
The argument continued outside of the station. Kessler was standing eye to eye, as much as he could, and screaming at his boss. Sparks was sweating. Kessler was only five-foot-eight and one hundred and seventy pounds soaking wet but he sure was fiery, Sparks thought.
“No. I don’t care about all that. You say it’s all bigger than you, Darrell? You’re
right! It’s bigger than you, and Frank, and Carl and… the State Police guy… and all your greed. You can’t just do this to people with no regard for what can happen to them. It ain’t right, Darrell! You have to know how wrong this is.”
“Right and wrong get mixed up a lot these days, young man. It’s a pretty fine line anymore.”
“It’s not a fine line. You’re a cop, for God’s sake! You are a sworn police officer and you’re telling me that right and wrong get mixed up? I swear I… no… I want out of this. Right now. I won’t tell anyone what you guys are doing but I can’t be a part of it.” Kessler walked away for the second time.
“You’re going to have to. You know everything we’re doing, Ray,” the chief said, his tone calm but semi-threatening. “What’re we supposed to do if you get all flustered and want to blab to somebody because it’s right?”
Kessler stopped and turned back toward Sparks. “Well, what about Robbins?”
“Kevin knows nothing and it’ll stay that way. You understand me?”
“No, I don’t understand and I don’t want to because I’m done with this.” Kessler turned to walk away for the third time but was held back by Sparks for the third time.
Frank Amick spoke for the first time. “Ray, you’re not doing this to us. You can stay here until this is settled but you’re not just walking out of here knowing what you know and feeling the way you do. You can screw us all and we can’t afford that. Take a breath.”
Amick and Lilly both emerged from behind Sparks, the three now surrounding Kessler. Amick took a single step back, gaining more room to move in the event that things took a turn for the worse.
“Let him go, Chief. He ain’t gonna be talking to anyone about this stuff and him being gone just makes the piece of the pie a little bigger for the rest of us,” Lilly said. “You guys need to cool down.”
“He’s got a point, Darrell. Who’s he gonna tell? We got Ronnie at the State Police with his ear to the ground. Nothin’s gonna happen,” Frank Amick added, trying to ease the tension of the situation.
“It’s worth the risk, guys? Are you sure?” Sparks looked around dramatically, waiting for an answer. “I’m not. He stays in.”
“I’m not staying in anything!” Kessler exclaimed. “Look, I’m outta here. You can do whatever you want but do it without me here. I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
Kessler spun to walk away for the last time. Sparks reached for his arm but Kessler flared in time to avoid the grasp. Pushing Lilly aside, Kessler started toward the area where his aging car sat. Amick grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. His strength and leverage knocked Kessler off-balance, causing him to stumble back several steps before smacking face first on the brick wall of the building.
“Sorry, bro. You need to stay here. You’re not leaving like this,” Amick said.
Kessler wiped away a trickle of blood from his mouth. “The hell I’m not!”
He threw a right cross at Amick, who dodged the punch, and landed a blow of his own to the younger officer’s midsection and another to his head, sending him crashing to the ground. Ray rolled himself over and pushed himself upright only to attempt another attack, or to defend himself, which was quickly thwarted before he found himself on the ground again.
Back on his feet again, Kessler threw a wild punch at Amick, which the deputy countered and staggered the smaller man back several feet. Sparks grabbed the nightstick from his belt, striking Kessler just below the neck, dropping him to his knees. He rolled away, stood, and attempted to run before being tripped by Lilly and landing flat on his chest. Sparks quickly approached from behind and, as Kessler got to his feet once more, struck behind his left knee, leaving the leg nearly useless for a swift escape.
From the ground, Kessler kicked Sparks away with his right leg before pushing himself upright. Amick approached with his left arm bent at the elbow and vertical; out from his chest and up to his face, his right arm down, the fist clinched. He threw a short right cross at Kessler’s jaw but missed and was caught flush with Kessler’s counter. With room to move, Kessler tried to run but fell when his injured left leg buckled under his weight.
Barely standing and in fear for his life, Kessler reached to his holster as the three officers approached him. He pulled his gun from the holster and, as he aimed it toward them, Amick lunged at his outstretched arm, pushing it into the air as Kessler pulled the trigger, firing a single round into the air.
Kessler drove his knee into Amick’s stomach. Amick doubled over, allowing Kessler the opportunity to aim again before Lilly wrapped an arm around his neck. Kessler began to flail, trying to free himself from Lilly’s grasp, and doing so by driving his elbow into the ribcage of his current attacker. Sparks grabbed Kessler’s wrist, again forcing his arm into the air, as Amick drew his own pistol from the holster on his hip. Kessler kicked Sparks in the right leg just below the knee, pushing him back, and pointed his weapon at the chief of the Spring Creek Police Department. Lilly chopped Kessler’s arm from behind as Sparks stepped forward to restrain him. Sparks had a firm grip on Kessler’s left arm when Amick jumped in, causing Kessler to fight the restraint with more fervor. Kessler’s right arm, the hand holding his gun, was pinned to his side by Lilly, but he began to move his wrist, pointing the gun upward toward Sparks’ midsection.
The scene was void of speech, only the grunts and heavy breathing of physical exertion from those not accustomed to it.
A single gunshot broke the silence.
The loud bang stopped each man in his tracks as Kessler slowly slumped away from the grasp of Lilly and Sparks and onto the ground. Blood seeped through his clothes and spilled onto the asphalt. His breathing was obstructed, the bullet striking below and to the left of the heart, blood filling his lungs. The look of shock in his eyes was partnered with the labored, shallow breathing as Amick, Sparks, and Lilly began to back away, not yet fully aware of what had just transpired. Each man’s eyes opened wide with alarm as the blood saturated the area of the entry wound.
The dark khaki shirt of Raymond Kessler’s uniform was slowly overtaken by crimson.
The gunshot startled her as she crouched a hundred feet away. In vain, she tried to keep the camera from shaking as she concentrated on the violent scene playing out before her. Lisa kept the camera trained on the men as they backed away and started scanning the area, looking for anyone who may have seen or heard anything. None of them looked in her immediate direction with any conviction. Lisa’s breathing was shallow with panic. Her heart was racing and her eyes were wide with shock and trepidation. Her brain tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed, and that was the operative word.
Witness.
What had she just seen? This was not an arrest. This was a criminal act. It was murder!
She stood slowly, making as little noise as possible, but kept her eye on the viewfinder of the camera, capturing every second of the action across the creek. She distinctly heard one of the men ask “What the hell do we do now,” a clear sign that something had gone horribly wrong, beyond the control of anyone involved. The three men she was watching, which had been four men only minutes before, began to back away from the body of the man whose life had just ended.
As the men secured their weapons, she felt the terrain under her bare feet change from grass to the cold concrete. The videotape reached its end and ejected itself automatically. The sharp sound startled her and she toppled backward as her heel touched the back of the walkway. The camera flew from her hand as the tape fell out to the side in another direction. Lisa ran her hands through the grass and found the undamaged tape lying nearby before retrieving the remnants of her now broken camera. Hands full and fighting the onset of panic, she fled to safety inside the house through the backdoor which she had never closed.
“What the hell was that?” Sparks asked, turning his head quickly toward the sharp sound that was out of place and unnatural.
“I don’t know but I heard it, too. I think it was from that yard
over there. There ain’t any lights on or anything. Probably a dog messin’ around,” Amick said.
“That didn’t sound like no dog, guys,” said Lilly.
“Whatever it is, we’ll find out. That new girl is rentin’ that house I think. Cute little thing but awful thin. I met her when she moved in. I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow and make sure nothing was seen or heard.”
“And what if she did, Chief?” Lilly asked.
“We’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it.”
Amick looked down at Kessler’s lifeless body and said, “Yeah. We got a lot more to worry about right now. Are you all going to help me or not?”
Sparks turned to Lilly and said, “Carl, jump in a cruiser and drive around the area for a minute, see if anyone’s stirring around or getting curious or something. Me and Frank will take care of the, uh, situation here.”
Whatever that means, Sparks thought as he looked into the sky.
CHAPTER
7
Lisa stood stock-still in the darkness of her living room, clutching the small video cassette and praying that she would not hear a single sound that was out of place. Her heart raced as she tried, with limited success, to calm herself long enough to decide her next move. The tape in her hand contained something important, and potentially dangerous, but what was it? What had she just seen? Obviously it was significant but what exactly was it? A police officer had been shot no more than a good stone’s throw from where she had been standing, seemingly by another police officer. Policemen’s shooting of another policeman is not an everyday occurrence. No one else had been around. Was she the only outsider to see this? Five minutes passed without a break-in at her house, much less a knock at the door or so much as a phone call.