“Nice shiner,” I greeted Ethan. I knew it resulted from the fight he had in my honor.
“You should see the other guy,” Ethan replied, stealing my line. We climbed into his minivan, which was filled with a strange combination of dolls and football equipment. I saw it as another sign that I should never have children.
“I really appreciate what you did for me.”
“It was nothing. Although, I’m not sure the school board sees it as such a noble act.”
“What did they say?”
“I can coach the rest of the regular season. But I will be suspended for the league championship game and state playoffs.”
Guilt churned in my stomach. “That’s total BS! They purposely took you out at the pinnacle of your career to make a point that they wouldn’t play any favors because Dad’s on the board.”
“The pinnacle of my career is every day when I wake up and get to do something I love for a living. I’m lucky they didn’t fire me.”
“It really doesn’t bother you they are taking away your chance to win your first state championship? This year was your best shot,” I replied, perplexed.
“It’s not my championship, JP … it’s the kids’ championship.”
I took a moment to let it sink in. Just more proof that we were from different planets. “You really are about the story and not the glory.”
“Huh?”
I smiled. “It’s just that I always wanted to be like my older brother. I guess the more things change the more they stay the same.”
“Try living with three screaming kids, and busting your rear to make the next mortgage payment, then tell me you still want to be like me.”
“I wish I could have been a better role model for Noah.”
Ethan patted me on the shoulder. “If Noah knew what you were doing for him he’d be proud. Did you find anything new about Jones on your trip?”
I was too tired to go through the whole convoluted story, and explain how his real name was Benson. “Nothing I can prove. Is there anything positive we can talk about?”
“The Rockfield High football team is undefeated-are you coming to the game tonight?”
“Now that’s positive. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Keep the good vibes going.”
“Mom tells me that you and Gwen might be getting back together.”
That didn’t last long. My face slumped. “There’s a problem.”
“I’m sure whatever it is you two will work it out. You’re meant for each other,” he said, sounding like he was giving his team a pep talk.
“It’s a big problem.”
“Another man?”
“Kind of.”
“What does that mean?”
“Jones is holding her captive.”
Ethan slammed the breaks in the middle of the I-84, almost causing a thirty-car pile-up. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
At least I hoped she was a captive. The alternative was too dismal to even think about. I was banking on the fact that Benson was intelligent, and the smart move would be to keep her as an insurance policy.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go to the cops.”
I shook my head. “The only way to get her back is to lure him out. If we scare him we might never see her or Carter again.”
“He has Carter, too?”
I nodded.
“Do you have a plan?” Ethan asked.
“I need you to take me to Town Hall.”
Chapter 77
I was told that Maloney was in a meeting with Rich Tolland. I took that as a cue to barge into his office.
Bobby the Weasel first looked stunned, but quickly regained enough composure to snarl at me, “We are in a meeting, Warner.” He called for his secretary to remove me.
Rich stood, looking intimidating. “What is it now, JP?”
“I just wanted to tell both of you that Kyle Jones didn’t kill my brother, and I wanted to apologize.”
“We know that, Warner. I’m glad you came to your senses,” Maloney said. “Apology accepted, now please let yourself out before I have someone do it for you.”
“The name of the person who killed my brother is Grady Benson. His parents were killed by a drunk driver way back in 1989, and since then has been performing his brand of vigilante justice across the country. Some names of his victims include pro football star Leonard Harris and former US Senator Craig Kingsbury.”
A tense silence hung over the room, until Maloney responded, “What size straightjacket do you wear, Warner?”
Rich concurred, “You’re wasting our time here, JP.”
I kept my attention on Maloney. “Do you know how Benson found out about Craig Kingsbury being involved in a drunk driving fatality, Bobby?”
“Probably from that lunatic Lamar Thompson spouting off on TV,” he fired back. “And I thought I told you to call me Robert!”
“I’m sorry, Bobby, I was just feeling a little sentimental. Thinking back to when we were simple college students-me at Columbia, you at UNC. I think you were there at the same time as Craig Kingsbury, right?”
“What are you getting at, Warner?”
“I was just curious if you’d heard any talk on campus. You see, my sources tell me that Kingsbury was driving and Lynch was in the passenger seat. I also know Lamar Thompson was in the backseat on the driver’s side. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out who that other kid was in the car. I just thought you might have some inside knowledge, going to school there at the same time and all.”
I took a long look at him. I would have smirked, but there was nothing funny about this. He nervously fidgeted with his silk tie. It reminded me of a sweater that had begun to unravel. The first loose string looks so innocent, but soon it leads to another, and before you know it you can’t stop the demise.
“I don’t know, Warner. Maybe you can consult one of your great sources. I have work to do,” he said and sat down behind his desk.
“I did, and do you know what I learned?”
“I couldn’t care less.” His words were still firm, but the tone had turned hesitant. He knew he was entering a minefield.
“George Kingsbury arranged a deal with a crooked judge named Raymond Buford. They paid off the fourth kid in the car, the juvenile, for false testimony to make it all disappear for his son. It worked well, that is, until Grady Benson found out about it. Craig Kingsbury and his father are dead, along with Buford. And now Benson is coming after the last piece of the puzzle. Are you sure you don’t know who he is, Bobby?”
He stood and pointed angrily to the door. “Get out!”
Rich stepped in. “JP, I’m not sure where this is going. Is there a point in there, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”
“Trust me, Rich. I’m as sick of myself as you are. So I’ll shut my fat trap and let Bobby tell you what my point is. I think he knows what it is.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Warner!” Maloney shouted.
A grown man having a mental breakdown was not a pretty sight.
“Tell him, Bobby!”
“Get out!”
I reached across the desk and grabbed Maloney by his pricey tie and pulled him close enough to my face to feel my stubble. “I said tell Chief Tolland who the fourth person in the car was!”
Rich physically separated us with a very recognizable look. It was the “I’ve had all the JP Warner I can stand for the rest of my life” look. I got that a lot.
I began to nonchalantly walk out of the office. “I’m a little hurt, Bobby. I was just trying to save your life.”
“Freeze!” Rich’s voice echoed throughout the room. He knew I was up to something.
I stopped and turned.
“Spill it, JP,” he said. It was an order.
I walked back to Maloney’s desk. I reached into my overnight bag and pulled out a glossy black-and-white US Air Force photo of Grady Benson and tossed the photo on the desk. It fell right beside framed pictures of Maloney’s perfect family. Even with the passing of years, there wasn’t a reasonable doubt that they were looking at a photo of the man they knew as Officer Kyle Jones.