Chapter Seven
Shortly after Robbie and Demetria left the Wells farm, Richard left for home, and Chloe and Tracy packed up to head back to the Marte’s condo. The girls were completely out of gas and they collapsed into bed within a few minutes of getting home. Keith was still buzzing on a full day of caffeine and adrenaline.
He combed through the news he could find on the night’s events. So far, the stories hadn’t made it out of the local news. The initial radio report of Ralph’s suicide transformed into a gun accident. There was zero word on the Sheriff’s demise, and the details on the attack at the dance were vague, and they cited a deranged attacker who had been injured in a confrontation with students. Thankfully their names were not in any of the stories so far. He wondered how it would play out in the media.
He checked his voicemail and email, but there was no word, yet, from Rich Simons about his meeting with the prosecutor. Keith fired off a text to Rich, but it was too late in the night to expect any reply so he lounged back on the couch and dozed off.
The brilliant, clear night gave way to a dreary autumn morning. The sky was gray and rain looked almost certain. Keith woke up with the first light and was wide awake immediately. His mind had been churning all through the night, apparently, even in his sleep. There was a text reply from Rich that said, “in office at 7AM tomorrow, stop by.”
Keith left a note, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went to meet Rich. Rich looked like he hadn’t slept for two straight days. His hair was oily and he traded his dress shirt and jacket for a Chardon hoodie. He was nursing a cup of coffee when Keith walked in. Rich unplugged his phone.
“Hey Keith do you have a cell phone on you? Can you go put it out in the car, I hate to be this paranoid, but, well, you know.”
Keith’s eyebrows knitted together. “OK. No problem.” Keith put the cellphone out on his car seat. When he got back into the office he asked, “You wanna check me for a wire?”
Rich managed a smile. He twiddled his thumbs and was deep in thought as he collected himself to speak. Keith sighed and urged him, “Come on Rich, just spit it out!”
“Right, right. Sorry Keith. I haven’t slept for a couple of days.”
“Well, just tell me what happened.” Keith insisted.
Rich took his glasses off and wiped them carefully with the sweatshirt pocket. Without his glasses, he was basically blind. He could only see a couple of feet in front of his face with any detail. He put them on the desk and wiped his eyes and said to the blob across the desk from him, “This goes nowhere beyond this room, got it?”
Keith nodded, “OK. I can live with that.”
Rich said, “I went to the prosecutor with your information, and I had a meeting yesterday with a Cleveland law firm on behalf of the State’s people. This was a very odd, unexpected turn of events. Anyway, long story short, they made us, that is, me and you, an offer I think we can’t refuse.”
Keith was irritated and asked, “Well, what’s the offer, Rich?”
“Deep six your case files--bring all the paperwork, your office computer over here. We shred it all. Drop any subsequent investigation of the people involved with the case. If we do all that, things will go well for both of us.”
Keith sighed, “And if we don’t do that?”
Rich shrugged and put his glasses back on. “They didn’t really say, but the implication was unpleasant. He mentioned that the police investigation of the incident at the homecoming dance could affect your family.”
Keith leaned back in the chair, “Geez. These people! What assurance can we possibly have that they’ll hold up their end of any bargain. I followed this case to really dark places, Rich. I am way out in the wilderness, here, and now my daughter is involved!” He shouted. “We’re in it up to our necks.”
Rich held up his hands, “I don’t think we are, Keith. I think for these people it is really just business. If we play ball, we’re in the clear.”
Keith dropped his head into his hands and tapped the floor with his heels. He sat back up, “Well, really what choice do we have anyway? Fine. So, should I just bring the stuff over here?”
Rich nodded. “I’ll make a call. I’ll text you when the guy’s here.”
Keith went over to his office and gathered all the case files into a big cardboard box. He unplugged the computer CPU and dropped it into the box as well. He bounced a tennis ball off the wall until Rich texted him. He checked his gun was loaded and chambered a shell, then put the safety on and hid the gun in his jacket pocket. He jogged across the street with the box.
A black van was parked in front of Rich’s office. The back doors of the van were open. A short, slightly plump African American man was waiting for Keith. Rich had a box of papers related to the case on the ground at his feet. The man turned on a tablet computer. The tablet had a black bar with microphones and a camera on one end. The man looked at the screen and oriented the camera so it was pointed at Keith’s face. He clicked a couple of icons and the device beeped twice.
He asked, “Do you swear that all the materials relevant to the matter are included here? That you’ve made no electronic or paper or any other type of copy?” He touched another icon.
Keith nodded. The man tapped the icon again and said, “You need to say it. Just a moment. OK. Go ahead.”
Keith sighed, “Yes I swear, it’s all there, no copies.”
The device beeped. The man clicked a couple of icons and repeated the process with Rich. The device buzzed and the man clucked his tongue. He asked Rich, “Did you forget some papers or copies? They all need to be here.”
Rich went back in the office and said, then came out with Keith’s case binder. “I almost forgot this.” They repeated the process. The man looked satisfied.
The man put on a pair of earmuffs and said apologetically, “This will be loud. You might want to cover your ears.”
He flipped a switch on the door of the van. An engine sputtered to life and a loud whine split the air. Keith plugged his ears and Rich stepped a few paces away. The man dropped the computer into a chute. A sound like a million pennies raining down on a frying pan assaulted their eardrums for a few seconds. He threw the document boxes in next, waited until the grinding noises stopped, then powered the system down. He shook both men’s hands and left.
Keith said, “I’m heading home, Rich, you should too! ”
Rich said, “I’ll be in touch Keith.”
The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter Page 7