Rich stared hypnotically at the photo. Maloney looked like he was about to throw up.
“By the way, Benson loves to kill on anniversaries. Just ask Noah. What was the date of the Lamar Thompson accident?” I asked, knowing the answer, but still wanting the confession.
“October tenth,” Maloney mumbled.
“Well, at least that gives you a couple days to say your good-byes and to get your will updated. Did I mention that October 10 this year is the 20th anniversary of the accident? I’m guessing that Benson might be planning a reunion for that day.”
I began strutting toward the door
“Please come back,” he uttered feebly.
“Excuse me?”
“Please come back,” he said, this time louder.
Having gotten my pound of flesh, I turned to face him. He bowed his head in shame. If he thought the sympathy card would work he had the wrong jury.
“I was a kid. George Kingsbury was a powerful man. They promised me that my name would never be released. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that Lacey woman. But it’s not like I was the one driving the car.”
I walked behind the desk, lifted Maloney’s sulking head, and drove my fist into his nose.
“That’s for Lamar Thompson. And if it weren’t for you, Benson would have never come here. So I’m holding you responsible for what he’s done since he arrived. If it weren’t for you … my brother would be alive. If it weren’t for you … Gwen wouldn’t be his hostage right now!”
Rich pulled me away from Maloney before a murder occurred. He wasn’t overreacting. He then looked at me with a confused look. “Gwen Delaney is being held hostage?”
I pointed at Rich in the way my mother taught me not to point at people. “That’s why I’m in charge now. That is, unless you want the world to know you not only hired, but enabled a mass murderer. And covered up that video of ‘Officer Jones’ assaulting Carter.”
Rich stood motionless, his bulky arms crossed across his massive chest. Maloney’s head was tilted back with a rag over his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.
I had the floor. I began with Benson’s parents being killed by the speeding car of Timothy Kent. And then walked them through each disturbing step that led us to this day.
The story was insane, but nobody in the room could doubt it.
Rich added, “That’s all circumstantial. I can’t arrest him just on innuendo. My only option is to charge him with impersonating an officer. That will at least get him off the street if he has plans of doing something on the anniversary of the accident.”
“If you arrest him I will never see Gwen again.”
“Then what do you propose we do?”
“I have a plan. Bobby-go set up a press conference for tomorrow morning. You have a big announcement to make.”
Chapter 78
Friday night was idyllic for football. Heavy rains were predicted, but held off. Temperatures were October brisk, just a shade below fifty for the game between the undefeated Rockfield Mountain Lions and Newtown High.
The onslaught began immediately, with Rockfield returning the opening kickoff for a touchdown. Midway through the second quarter, Ethan’s troops had a twenty-one to nothing lead and were closing in on more.
I took in the sights and sounds. I noticed my father working the crowd like it were Election Day, in his first public appearance since Noah’s funeral. My mother was more subdued, huddled under a blanket in the bleachers, chatting with old friends. The band struck up a catchy fight song, drowning out the obnoxious shouts coming from the parents in the crowd. When my eyes got to the cheerleaders, I thought of Gwen, and how stunning she used to look in her cheerleader uniform back in the day.
The thought sobered me. I knew I had one shot to get her back. This had to work. The stakes were Gwen’s life, which meant it might as well have been my own life. The plan was based on Benson’s weakness-his heroic view of himself. You take my girl, I take your glory.
But I wasn’t naive enough to think that Benson didn’t have the upper hand. It no longer mattered if we were onto him-he held the ultimate equalizer in Gwen. He knew it, and I knew it. All I wanted to do was to level the playing field.
Halftime came with Rockfield being cheered off the field, owning a commanding four-touchdown lead. I made my way to the snack bar and shamelessly used my celebrity status to cut in line. It wasn’t that I was so desperately hungry, or on an ego trip-I was just strapped for time. The first step in the plan should be arriving in just moments.
On the way back to my position, I saw him. Working security detail for the game in his light gray police uniform was Grady Benson, or as he was known in these parts, Officer Jones. I held my stare on him, and could tell it made him feel momentarily uncomfortable. I was skilled at causing discomfort in others, which normally worked as an effective weapon in keeping people from sitting next to me on the subway. Benson turned and went on his way, diligently carrying out his police duties. I smiled at winning a small battle.
I returned to the meeting spot and waited. She showed up wearing a long black leather coat. It came down just above her high-heeled shoes, giving her a flasher look. Her big blonde hair shone so brightly it could have been used to light the field.
I cringed when I heard her voice, “Hello, John Peter.”
Chapter 79
“You look radiant as usual,” I greeted Lauren.
“Don’t try to butter me up, John Peter. If you invited me here because you want me to interview you, well, you are a dollar late and a day short.”
“Actually, I wanted both you and Cliff to come. Where is he?” I asked, letting the butchered saying pass without comment.
“He’s parking the car. Before he gets here, I just want to say that it’s very obvious the reason you asked us here was to beg for your job back. So I want you to know that I’m a team player, and I won’t stand in your way. I will do my best not to think less of you when I’m your boss.”
I began to choke on my hot dog. “I’m sure any man would be honored to be under you. And I’m sure many have been.”
“Your smarty-pants comments don’t work on me anymore, John Peter. The fact is, you thought GNZ would crumble without you. Between my reporting on the Kingsbury case, and our new edgier shows this fall, not only did we not miss a beat, but we found that old guys like you were making us stale.”
Rockfield didn’t waste any time in the second half, scoring on the third play to the roar of the crowd.
“I caught Todd Scott’s edgier show, the Todd Squad for Truth. Where’d you guys find him, the Mental Health Channel?”
“Make fun all you want, John Peter, but Todd is a revolutionary.”
“Sort of like Castro was.”
“You are just jealous that he’s not afraid to feed America the answers it starves for.”
“I guess if you can’t report the news, you might as well make it up.”
“You wouldn’t know cutting edge if it hit you in the head,” she replied angrily.
She might’ve had a point, but to be fair, I often did want a sharp cutting edge to stick in my eye when I was with her. I thought that should count for something.
Our stimulating conversation was interrupted by Cliff Sutcliffe, also stylishly overdressed for a high school football game. I was getting worried that he’d dropped Lauren off and hightailed it back to the city. Not that I could argue against the strategy, but I needed him here.
We shook hands like we were long lost friends. Lauren excused herself so that she could use the “ladies room.” Her acting hadn’t improved since the last time I’d seen her.
When she was safely out of earshot, Cliff began his spiel, “JP, I need you back. Even MSNBC has passed us in the ratings!”
“Ratings are overrated.” I said with a smug grin.
“You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll double the offer from last time.”
“I’m not coming back, Cliff.”