Code of Silence: Living a Lie Comes With a Price

by Tim Shoemaker

  The driver looked worried, but backed off.

  Too late.

  “Police,” the runner said, pushing past the driver. The Clown. His mask was gone, but his hoarse voice was unmistakable.

  “Give me some room.” Pressing one hand on Cooper’s neck, the man kept Cooper sprawled on the ground and from getting any kind of look at his face. He felt the man’s hand dart into the back pocket of his cargo shorts.

  “What, no ID? Where do you live, kid?”

  Cooper tried to stand, but the man leaned into him, keeping him in place.

  Several people hurried out of the donut shop and formed a half-circle around him.

  The man patted Cooper’s front pockets, then drove his hand deep in one of them. “I want that hard drive.”

  Partially laying on his right side, the hard drive pressed into his leg just above the knee.

  The man pulled out Cooper’s house key. “Jackpot.”

  Cooper grabbed for it, but the man pulled back.

  “I called 9–1–1!” a voice shouted from the pick-up window. “The police and ambulance are on the way.”

  For an instant Cooper felt hope.

  The robber leaned in close. “I’ll let you go—for now,” he whispered. “You get me that hard drive. The bell tower. Sunday night. No cops. Got it?”

  Cooper nodded.

  “Say it.” The man’s lips brushed against Cooper’s ear with every whisper.

  “Bell tower. Sunday.” Cooper tried to get on his feet.

  “Good boy,” the clown cop said. He patted Cooper’s back gently, putting on a show for the bystanders. “And not a word to anyone,” he hissed. The man squeezed Cooper’s neck with an iron hand. “Or I’ll find you if I have to try this key in every house in town. But you rode your bike, so I bet you don’t live far.”

  The man leaned in close and snickered. “I gotcha, boy.”

  Cooper tried to pull free, but the man gripped Cooper’s neck even harder. “And I’ll kill everyone in the house. Your Mom. Your Dad. Brothers. Sisters.” The man thrust his fist in front of Cooper’s eyes and opened it for an instant—just quick enough for him to glimpse his house key. “I’ll kill them all—and I’ll save you for last. Understand?”

  Cooper nodded.

  “Now get outta here before the circus starts.” The man released his grip and stood.

  “He’s alright,” the man announced. “Just shaken up a bit.”

  Cooper turned to look down the road—half expecting to see flashing lights. He struggled to his feet.

  Head down, the man backed through the crowd and disappeared.

  Cooper staggered toward his bike, feeling a measure of strength pulsing through him again.

  “Really,” the driver put one hand on Cooper’s shoulder, “wait for the paramedics to check you out.”

  “Send them across the street,” Cooper said, picking up his bike and swinging a leg over the seat. “The owner of Frank ‘n Stein’s … there was a fight … I think he’s dead.” Pushing off, he leaned into the pedals like his life depended on it. As far as he was concerned it did.

  Cooper didn’t look back. Didn’t dare. The wind shrieked in his ears, an unearthly voice that said he was doomed. The robber got a good look at his face—and had his house key.

  He spotted Hiro and Gordy waiting in the shadows between a couple of parked mail trucks. They took flight again as soon as Cooper got close. Together they raced down the bike trail along the creek through Kimball Park.

  Minutes later they ditched their bikes behind the shed in Cooper’s backyard. With a six-foot cedar fence securing the backyard like a stockade, they were safe from detection. Still, Cooper stood at the corner of the shed and listened. Sirens wailed in the distance, but other than that, quiet. No rumble of a car passing slowly. Not even a dog barking. If the men had tried to tail them, they weren’t following anymore.

  “What happened back there?” Tears streaked Hiro’s face.

  “He took my key. Says he’ll find me.”

  Hiro sucked in her breath.

  “He wants the hard drive. Sunday night.”

  “Three days from now.” Gordy plowed both hands through his hair and held his head. “Why didn’t you just give it to him?”

  “Then he’d have all of us. Right now I don’t think he knows you two exist. By the time he got to the door, you were gone.”

  “And it was dark.” Gordy said it like he desperately wanted to believe it.

  Hiro swiped at her tears. “I had that feeling. Like I got the day my dad …” She shook her head. “But that car—it looked like it hit you. Are you okay?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “Yeah,” the palms of his hands still stung, but the fall hadn’t broken the skin. “I think so.” He looked down at his cargo shorts. No tears or rips. In fact, nobody would even notice he’d taken a dive—from the front, anyway. His back burned but his t-shirt wasn’t sticking. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t bleeding.

  “What about Frank?” Hiro hesitated. “Do you think he’s …”

  Cooper’s mind went back to the scene. Searching Frank’s pockets for the keys. He was dead alright. And the men who did it intended to get rid of the eyewitness.

  Hiro must have seen the answer in his eyes. “We have to call the paramedics. Just in case.”

  “Done. I told someone at Dunkin’ Donuts Frank needed help. They called 9–1–1.”

  “I thought we were toast.” Gordy paced in a tight pattern, jamming his hands deep in his pockets. “That was close. Too close.” He hustled over to the fence and tried to peer through the slats.

  “We’re safe—for now,” Cooper said. “We just need to stay that way.”

  “Thank God,” Hiro said. “We need to call the police.”

  “No.” Cooper struggled to harness his thoughts. His brain still felt like it was somersaulting the handlebars. “We can’t tell anybody—especially the police.”

  “What!?”

  “Two of those guys wore cop clothes. What if they’re cops?”

  “No way,” Hiro whispered.

  “It’s possible.” Cooper raked a hand through his hair. “Look, your dad was a cop, and your brother is a cop, and someday you’ll probably be a cop, so don’t take this personally. But maybe they dressed like cops because they are cops. Not everybody is as honest as your family. Chicago and corruption kind of go together—and Rolling Meadows is part of Chicagoland.”

  Hiro grabbed for the necklace around her neck and closed her fist around it.

  Gordy turned from looking through the fence. “And one had a gun. Right? What does that tell you?”

  “He’s a dangerous criminal.”

  Gordy stepped closer to Hiro. “Or maybe he’s a cop. You gotta admit it’s possible.”

  Hiro stared at the ground. “Possible. Not probable.”

  Seeing the opening, Cooper pushed ahead. “As long as we stay quiet about this, the creeps won’t know who we are—no matter if they’re cops or not. We’ll stay safe.”

  “What?” Hiro said. “I can’t tell Ken? Are you trying to tell me I can’t trust my own brother?”

  “Look, Ken is still a rookie,” Cooper said. “He’s a good cop, but a rookie.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He’ll have to report everything. Our names and addresses.” Cooper lowered his voice. “What if the wrong cop hears about it? What’s to stop him from finding us and making sure we stay quiet?”

  Hiro groaned. “We’ll be letting those monsters get away with murder.”

  “We’ll be staying alive,” Cooper said. “Besides, what kind of a help can any of us really be? They wore masks. All I saw were his eyes. I couldn’t identify him in a lineup.”

  “What about Frank?” Hiro whispered his name. “He’s been like a grandpa to me.”

  “To all of us,” Cooper whispered. Frank took the time to sit down and talk with them. Not just about the weather, but about life. With no kids of his own, he’d sort of adopted the three o
f them in his own way. Even helped with homework when he could.

  “Nothing we do is going to bring him back—and you know it.” Cooper stared at his hands, wishing he’d stood up and used them to help Frank when he needed it instead of hiding behind the counter. Not that he would have been much of help. “I just want to make sure none of us joins him.”

  More sirens echoed through the night. Hopefully that would keep the robbers off the street and in a hole somewhere.

  Cooper listened for a moment. “Look,” he said. “That guy with the clown mask has my key. He said he’d find me. Said he’d kill my mom and dad … and anyone else in the house.”

  Hiro came closer. “We need help. Protection.”

  Cooper shook his head. “We need to keep our mouths closed.”

  Hiro looked him in the eyes, like she was searching for the answer. “This is too big. Too dangerous.”

  Cooper glanced at the back of his house and nodded. “Exactly. So don’t ask me to trust the police. Not when a couple of them might want to kill my family.”

  “What about the hard drive?” Gordy’s eyes were wide.

  “We’ll figure that out later,” Cooper said. “But right now we have to be together on this.”

  Gordy peered over his shoulder, as if to make sure somebody wasn’t scaling the fence. When he turned back, shadows covered most of his face. He cleared his throat. “So we don’t tell a soul. Right?”

  “Exactly. Not even our parents. It’s our secret.” Cooper looked directly at Hiro. “We have to lay low.”

  “Lay low? Now you sound like a criminal.” Hiro lowered her head. “This seems all wrong. They have to be stopped—whoever they are.”

  “We are stopping them,” Cooper said. “We’re stopping them from finding us and adding three more murders to the neighborhood.” No, not three more. What about Mom and Dad and Mattie? If that hard drive got out, they’d be dead too. We’re talking six murders besides Frank. Cooper rubbed the back of his neck with his open palm. And getting in the house wouldn’t be a problem. The image of the man holding his house key played back in his mind and caused Cooper’s stomach to flip just as violently as he’d done on his bike.

  Hiro looked up at Cooper. “I had this weird feeling—just before it happened.” Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m just so scared.”

  Cooper put one hand on her shoulder and the other on Gordy’s. “This is about our survival. I say we make a three-way promise not to tell a soul about this.”

  “Like a pact?” Gordy’s eyes darted from Hiro to Cooper.

  “Right. A code we all agree to live by. A Code of Silence.”

  Hiro stared, zombie-like. “If a fish could learn to keep its mouth shut he’d never get caught.” She blinked. “My dad used to say that. People go to jail because they can’t keep quiet.”

  “Exactly,” Cooper said. “And they get themselves killed that way, too. We all have to stick together on this. All in—or it won’t work.”

  Laying a hand on each of his friends’ shoulders, Gordy nodded. “I’m in.”

  Cooper nodded. “Hiro?”

  Hesitating for an instant, Hiro slowly put a hand on each of their shoulders. She looked at Gordy, then faced Cooper, her cheeks wet and glistening in the moonlight. “In,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 5

  Cooper took a deep breath and let it escape. “We keep quiet and this will all blow past.” Striding over to the double-door entrance of the shed, he spun the dial on the combination lock. A moment later he rolled his bike inside next to his old one.

  Gordy joined him inside. “What about the hard drive?”

  “We bury it for now.” Cooper worked his way to the back of the shed and dumped a plastic garbage barrel filled with basketballs, footballs, bats, and street hockey sticks. “Nobody will ever find it.” Placing the hard drive at the bottom of the dark green container, he heaped the balls and gear back on top of it. Backing his way out of the shed, he stacked a sled, a couple of snow shovels, and the lawnmower in front of the barrel.

  “Cooper?” his mother called. “Is that you?”

  “Yeah.” Cooper’s heart jumped. He stepped past Gordy into the yard. “Right here.” His mother stood in the open doorway of the house, hugging herself in the cool October air.

  “Are Hiro and Gordy with you?”

  “Yeah. We were just putting my bike away.”

  Gordy poked his head out of the doorway wearing a smile like a cheap mask. It did little to hide the guilty-as-sin look in his eyes. Thankfully, the shadows worked in his favor.

  “Gordon,” she said. “Your mom has called here twice looking for you. I told her I thought you were heading to Frank’s for a little studying and after-dinner snack.”

  Gordy’s smile went plastic, and his eyes widened. “Well, ah, we—”

  “We changed our minds,” Cooper burst in. “We just biked to the park for a while, then came back here.”

  The lie came out fast and smooth as though Cooper had rehearsed it a dozen times. Hiro stepped into view from the other side of the shed with her bike. Skin pale and eyes wide, she looked haunted.

  “Hi Hiro,” Cooper’s mom smiled. “Are you keeping those boys out of trouble?”

  “Definitely trying.”

  “Good girl,” Mom said. “Keep them on their toes.”

  Cooper exchanged glances with Gordy. They’d all need to be on their toes … or they’d end up flat on their backs like Frank.

  “I’d better get home.” Gordy gripped the handlebars and pushed his bike toward the cedar fence. He turned and waved to Cooper’s mom. “See you, Aunt Dana.” Without a word, Hiro followed.

  Cooper hustled up beside them. “Let’s take the bus tomorrow.” He wasn’t so sure riding bikes to school would be a good idea. “We can meet at the stop early.”

  Hiro nodded, but looked like she was in a different world.

  Cooper put a hand on Gordy’s shoulder. “Make sure Hiro gets home okay. I’d do it myself, but …” He tipped his head toward his mom.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Hiro said, walking faster to keep up.

  “We could all use one right now,” Gordy said, hesitating as he neared the fence. “It’s safer if we stick together.” He took a deep breath and slid the bolt to unlock the gate. Looking both ways, Gordy rolled his bike out of the backyard.

  Hiro waved a weak goodbye to Cooper and his mom, then disappeared into the darkness.

  His mother closed the door partially and huddled behind it like she was waiting for him. Cooper’s chocolate lab nuzzled past her and wriggled out of the house. Bounding to greet him, the dog zeroed in on him like a heat-seeking missile.

  “Hey, Fudge.” Cooper dropped down on one knee and braced himself. She collided into him, all wiggles and wagging tail. Cupping her head in his hands, he scratched behind her ears and under her collar. Fudge whimpered and whined happily.

  When he stood and started toward the house, Fudge trotted beside him and sniffed at the hem of his shorts as if to find out where he’d been and who he’d been with. Whatever scent she picked up, it glued her to his left leg. Like some kind of tired wind-up toy, her tail slowed and finally stopped swinging altogether. Fudge prodded and poked at the pocket of his cargo shorts, but her nose never left contact with it, even as he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Did you brush by a cat or something?” Mom frowned. “Look at her, she’s trembling.”

  The hair around Fudge’s neck grew stiff and started rising. Cooper put one hand between her head and his pants, gently trying to push her away. She pushed harder as if drawn by an invisible magnet.

  “She’s so intense, you’d think she smelled a chocolate bar in your pocket,” Mom said.

  Cooper shook his leg to break Fudge free. Not chocolate. Blood. Maybe his shorts absorbed microscopic particles of Frank’s blood when he climbed over him. Now Fudge picked up on it. The scent of death. “C’mon Fudge.” He picked up her chin and leaned close to her face
. “No.” Ears plastered back against the sides of her head, Fudge looked at him with deep caramel eyes. Sad, knowing eyes. Thankfully she couldn’t talk. She’d have to live by the Code of Silence too.

  “Warm me up, Cooper.” Mom reached out for a hug. He was barely taller than her, which wasn’t saying much. Cooper held her tight, wishing he’d never gone out that night. Never went to Frank ‘n Stein’s. Never—

  “Cooper.” His mother held him by the shoulders at arm’s length. “You’re shaking too. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I guess it got a little chillier outside than I thought it would. I should have worn my jeans.”

  “And your sweatshirt.” She rubbed his back. “October is nearly over.”

  Cooper winced at the stinging flashes of pain. “I think I’ll hit the shower.” He needed to be alone. Think. Wash the blood off.

  “I tried your cell.” She pointed to his cell on the counter.

  “I forgot. Sorry.” She had no idea how sorry. He unplugged it from the charger and pocketed it.

  “And then I started hearing sirens just before I checked outside.” She gave him one last squeeze and let him go. “Sirens tell the world something bad has happened.”

  Worse than bad. The last twenty minutes had been like something out of a horror movie. More sirens wailed now. Cooper closed the door. “I’m home now, so it looks like you worried for nothing.” He slid the deadbolt in place.

  She smiled. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  Safe. He intended to stay that way.

  “Uh, Mom, I lost my house key.”

  “Is it up in your room?”

  “Nope, I took it with me. Had it in my pocket.” He pulled his pocket inside out. “Gone.”

  Mom smiled. “It’s not the first one you’ve lost. I’ll get a copy made.”

  “Yeah, but somebody could use it to get in our house.”

  If his mom was concerned, she didn’t show it. “You didn’t have a ring on it—no ID on it at all, right?”

  Cooper shook his head. “Just the key. But I was wondering if we should get the locks changed—just in case.”

  His mom straightened a hand towel hanging from the oven door handle. “We’ll be fine. I don’t think whoever finds it will try every lock in town.”