LIEUTENANT PARKER'S VALIANT EFFORT
Dear Zac,
I'm so nervous right now. I wish you were here. Today was awful. Just awful. I'm so glad it's over. Did I tell you about Joey knowing what happened to the feed store? I've written so many letters now, I'm beginning to lose track. Anyway, he decided to finally report what he witnessed to the police and they ended up calling us all in--me and Millie and Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker. I don't know what came of it or what's going to happen now, but I know Joey's more scared now than he ever has been. I should probably be scared too, as I talked A LOT to Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell. They were both very nice and easy to talk to and I think I turned into a chatterbox just like Daddy used to call me. I just wanted them to know the truth. I wanted them to know everything I knew.
I need you so much right now. I need to feel your arms around me. I need to feel your breath in my ear as you tell me that everything is going to be okay. I feel so safe with you, so comfortable and at ease. I want to sleep outside at our tree underneath the stars and hold your hand and talk for hours. I want you to rest your head in my lap so I can play with your hair and I want to listen to your heartbeat as I lay my ear against your chest. I'm so proud of you. I've never been more proud of anyone, but--I wish you would please come home. Please. I miss you so much.
I'm sorry this letter is short, but I'm so exhausted after this day. I think something else is brewing that's unrelated to the feed store because as soon as we got home, Daddy was on the telephone for a good part of the afternoon, and then he ran out to go to work and worked well into the evening, missing supper. That's not like him. He's never done that before.
Anyway, Scout is here in bed with me, so I'm glad I have him to snuggle with. I'm going to put this book of letters away, letters you won't read until after you come home, and go to sleep. I hope to dream of you tonight, my love. Please come to me in my dreams and tell me how much you love me. Tell me a love poem. And bring wildflowers. Please. Just come to me.
Yours Forever and Always,
Bessie
Joey Martin's nerves were shot to death by the time he reached the Tulsa Police Department in the mid morning's nearly three digit temperature. He didn't have time to be bothered with the way he smoldered under the heat as he stared up at the building, however. His entire walk to the station had been spent more worried about looking over his shoulder and keeping a constant eye on his surroundings so that certain individuals may not witness his journey. It was bad enough that he was having to do this as it was.
It occurred to Joey, as he walked in the door, that he'd never been inside the police department headquarters before. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he had to admit surprise at the simplicity that befell him. Along the wall by the door was a row of chairs that sat underneath a window nearly as wide as the building that was covered by a pull-down shade to shield the facility from the sun that undoubtedly beat down brutally upon the room. Across from the row of chairs was a long, stained wood counter with two officers seated behind it. Behind them, a series of desks sat openly to fill the area and then off to the left, the back wall disappeared into a small hallway. Apparently there wasn't much activity that day as the station was deafeningly quiet, which was something that made Joey highly uncomfortable. Cautiously he approached the desk and spoke to the first officer that caught his eye.
"Um, good morning," he said nervously. "I, um, I need to speak to someone. About, uh, about something I witnessed."
The officer with the pale skin and black comb-over looked back at Joey, unamused. "What did you witness?"
As Joey cleared his throat, his eyes darted around. "Uh, it's about Anderson's Feed and Seed."
Suddenly the unamused officer's demeanor changed and he nearly jumped out of his chair. "Give me a second, will you?"
Watching the officer dart down the small hallway, Joey's palms began to sweat. On that stifling hot day, he couldn't help but feel a chill in the air, standing in the middle of the police station. He knew it was his own nerves playing tricks on him. He'd hardly had any sleep the night before as he ran the possibilities of this day over and over in his head. What if the police were Billy sympathizers? What if they were football sympathizers? What if they didn't believe him? What if he got arrested instead? What if he said the wrong thing? What if? What if?
As Joey's mind wandered, the officer returned and waved Joey around the desk. "Come on back. I think Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell are interested in speaking with you."
As Joey followed, he self-consciously slid his hand over his short, red hair, and made sure that his white, short-sleeved button-down and tan trousers were neat and straight. As the officer walked him to a heavy, metal door and opened it up, Joey thought his heart might very well burst right out of his chest from fear.
The officer smiled, which was of little comfort to Joey, and he invited him to have a seat at a table that only boasted three chairs--one on one side and two on the other. There were no windows, the brick walls were painted with a dark color that was currently indiscernible between green or blue, and a light bulb hung low to the table. It looked like prison. Joey almost offered up his own wrists to the officer that now informed him that Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell would be right with hm. And then the officer was gone.
Joey could leave. Anytime he wanted to, he was free to walk out that door. He wasn't actually under arrest, no matter how much it felt like he was. He wasn't a prisoner, he hadn't been escorted in a squad car, and his ankles weren't shackled. But he remained seated, remembering the promise he'd made to Millie, and he sweated bullets until two men in uniform walked into the room.
They dressed in black from head to toe, though it was easy to tell Lieutenant Parker from Officer Waddell. Waddell looked like your average ordinary officer in his black pants, black button-down, black tie, and black police hat. Lieutenant Parker stood a little taller and a little leaner than Waddell, a man clearly in his late thirties with dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes. If Joey wasn't such a nervous wreck, he would have recognized how handsome he was. Lt. Parker wore a similar uniform as Waddell, no hat, with his collar and shoulders decorated with his honors.
The two officers sat down across from him, surprisingly extending their arms across the table to shake Joey's hand. "Joey Martin, I presume?" Lt. Parker addressed him.
"Um, yes, sir," he replied.
Lt. Parker smiled. "Well, I'm Lieutenant Don Parker and this, here, is Officer Paul Waddell. It's our understanding that you have something to get off your chest?"
Joey swallowed hard and looked back and forth between the two men. "I, um, I know something about the vandalism at the feed store."
Lt. Parker studied him for a moment before he sat back in his chair. "That so? You already told the deputies what you knew, didn't you? Your alibi came across pretty solid, what with Bessie Harlow confessing to spending the night with her boyfriend right in front of her daddy. Don't get much more solid than that," he chuckled.
"Well, yeah, but--but I didn't--well--I didn't get the opportunity to go into...detail..."
Lt. Parker raised his eyebrow at Joey across the table. "You're not telling me you committed perjury, are you, son?"
"No. No, I didn't lie--"
"But you withheld information."
Suddenly, Joey forgot his nerves and went on the defensive. "You don't understand! You saw what those guys are capable of! Zac Hanson didn't even rat on any of them and they still beat him to a bloody pulp! What chance do you think I have?"
Lt. Parker leaned forward and laced his hands together on the table. "Okay, okay, slow down for a minute, boy, what are you saying here? Are you saying the Baker boy and his group of chums is responsible for this? Do you have proof?"
"Well, I didn't actually see them do it--"
"Now, look, we don't have time for speculation around here--"
"You're not listening! I haven't even gotten to it, yet!"
"Well, spit it out, boy, we got things to do around here."
The nerves returned to Joey's body and he took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs underneath the table. "One night--before the gypsy camp party--my father and I got into a fight and I had to get out of the house for awhile. It was late. After dark. And I went for a walk. And, you see, my house ain't too far from the feed store--"
"We're aware," Lt. Parker deadpanned.
"And, so, like I said, I was out walking. And I passed by the feed store along the way. And as I approached, I heard voices on the street outside of the street and when I realized who they belonged to, I hid behind a tree where it was too dark for them to see me."
"Them who?"
"Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker."
"Those two?"
"Yes."
"Just them?"
"Yes."
Lt. Parker raised his eyebrows. "And you saw them? You're sure it was them?"
"Yes, sir," Joey replied with confidence. "I heard Lawrence say Billy's name, too."
At this, Lt. Parker paused and looked over at the officer next to him, seemingly giving him the once-over. "You didn't bring paper?"
"Uh, no, Lieutenant, you didn't say to bring any."
"How in the hell are we going to take down a statement, Waddell, if we don't have paper?"
In a flash, Waddell was out of his chair and out the door and Lt. Parker smiled sheepishly across the table amidst the light bulb that hung overhead. "You'll have to excuse Officer Waddell. Fella's just a rookie. Seems to be catching on, though."
Joey could only nod. While he was grateful for the temporary hitch in their conversation, he was still just as nervous as ever. How did he sound? Did he sound nervous? Did he sound like he was lying? Was he sputtering, thinking too long about his responses? Did he look guilty?
Millions of these questions swam around in Joey's head as Officer Waddell practically clamored back into the room and into his seat, pen and paper poised in front of him. "Sorry, Lieutenant. I'm ready now."
Lt. Parker ignored him and focused his attention on Joey. "Okay, son. Start from the beginning. Don't leave anything out."
Joey began by repeating what he had already told the pair. He repeated it slowly as Officer Waddell scribbled furiously across the pages. Briefly, Joey wondered if he'd actually be able to read it when he was finished before he was swiftly brought back to the present. "I think I caught them in mid-conversation because they were already talking about it. It sounded like they were talking about options or plans to retaliate against Zac. Lawrence didn't sound like he was too keen on the idea, but Billy seemed adamant. Billy said it had to be now 'while the old man's out of town.' He said that too many people are trusting Zac now and soon the Hansons would be running Tulsa. Then Lawrence suggested making it look like a robbery but Billy wanted him to burn it down. Except that Lawrence wasn't having it and he said he wouldn't 'encourage the boys' to do that, either. Then Billy told Lawrence to do whatever he wanted, he didn't care. He said that as long as something bad happened to the store while Zac was running it, that was all that mattered. Was convinced that Mr. Anderson might accuse it of being an inside job and that Zac would lose everything because of it. And then they ended their conversation and went their separate ways."
"That quickly?" Lt. Parker replied.
"That's how I remember it, yes. And then you saw that happened next."
"Yes, yes," Lt. Parker said in thought. "And as I recall, you were one of the only people who weren't at the store that day to help out."
"I had work to do at home. Your deputies found me there, I wasn't hiding."
"You realize that Mr. Anderson thought you had done it based on the, uh...male genitalia that was drawn in mud on the side of the building? He was sure of it. Said you used to draw them all the time while you and Billy goofed around as kids."
Joey fought to hide a smile. "I'm an artist. I draw, paint, sculpt, I do everything. My dad doesn't approve and that's what we fought about. With all due respect, officer, if I was going to draw anything--be it male genitalia or anything else--it's going to look like a work of art, not like a five-year-old did it."
"How do you know what the drawing looked like if you weren't there?"
"Because when Billy and I worked together, what Mr. Anderson said was true, we did goof off a lot. And Billy was the one doing all the drawing, not me. I mean, you know...me...most people pretend not to know but I know they do. And I'm not the type who would go out of their way to do things to draw attention to...certain aspects of myself. I'm only asking for it that way. Hell, I'm asking for it just sitting here right now. That being said, I wish to remain anonymous. I want this tip to be anonymous. Because I'm not ashamed to admit it, those guys make me nervous. There's strength in numbers and Zac was lucky to survive that ambush. I don't want to be the one they finish off. Okay?"
Lt. Parker nodded. "Fair enough. That can be arranged. We can't control who sees you come in and out of this station, though."
"I understand, thank you."
"Anybody else know what you witnessed?"
"Yes," Joey replied sullenly. "The guilt weighed so heavy on my mind and I felt like I betrayed one of my only best friends. So I told Bessie Harlow. And Millie Jennings. Nobody else but them."
"You do realize we'll likely have to call both of those ladies in to corroborate your story..."
"Yes, sir."
"No doubt it'll wash, you haven't steered me wrong, yet, son. Just standard procedure and such, you know. After all, we want to catch the ones who did this to old Anderson's store. Tragic thing to happen to that old man. And to his hired help, no matter who it may be."
"Yes, sir, I agree," Joey said.
At that, Lt. Parker stood up and extended his arm across the table once more. "I appreciate you coming forward with this information, Mr. Martin. You've been a big help. Brave thing you've done, standing up against those football boys. I know a lot of people would be too scared to."
"Thank you, sir," Joey replied with a sheepish smile. "Truth is, I was too scared to, that's why it took me so long. But I made a promise to Millie Jennings and I like to keep my promises."
"That's admirable of you. Well, son, you're free to go. Waddell will escort you out of the station. You have a good day now."
Before he knew it, Joey was out of the cool indoors and out underneath the blazing hot sun. On instinct, he looked around nervously before he took off briskly toward home, ignoring the near immediate sweat that began to bead on his face. He didn't care how hot it was. He was just ready to get safely home. On one hand, he felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Unfortunately, it seemed to be replaced with a whole new weight and brand new questions occupying his constantly busy mind. Could he trust the police? What if they slipped up somewhere? What if their conversation ended up on the front page of the paper? What if--?
What if they had already called Millie and Bessie?
Apparently, they had. Because he couldn't help himself as he slowed to a stop long enough to watch Judge Harlow's car, carrying Millie and Bessie, as it passed him by.
After a moment, he started back on his journey, only getting three or four steps in before he turned on his heel and headed back in the direction from which he came. They were there because of him. He couldn't abandon them now. What he could do, though, was hide safely in the shade of the bushes alongside the building. After all, if they called Millie and Bessie, he could only imagine who else they'd called. The girls shouldn't be long, anyway. Or if he was lucky, heat stroke would get the best of him before it was all said and done.
_______________________________
"Well, what do you think?" Officer Waddell asked. "He's pointing the finger at the DA's son."
Lt. Parker sat in the chair in the interrogation room and let out a breath, his mind going a mile a minute since Waddell had escorted Joey Martin out of the room. It was a sticky situation, accusing an elected official's offspring of any sort of crime. As far as the crime went, it was mild in comparison to things he'd seen desperate men do since the stock market crash. The only difference was, Waddell was right. The finger was being pointed at the DA's son. It would be far from an open and shut case. That was, if it even left the interrogation room.
"Honestly?" The lieutenant replied. "They're the first boys I thought of, too. Until I saw that Joey was absent from the scene and Billy Connors was all over the place. And especially since Mr. Anderson thought it was Joey from the get-go. Makes perfect sense, though, Billy behind it, if you ask me. His grudge against Zac Hanson is no secret around here."
"That doesn't make any sense, though. They got their licks in on Zac, why would they need to do any further to him?"
"Because they got caught. Plain and simple. They were stupid and were caught red-handed. And it worked out in Zac's favor once again. Just like this did..."
Officer Waddell tapped his pen against his pad of paper in thought for a moment. "So, what, should we be on the lookout for another retaliation? Providing they were the ones who trashed the store..."
"Nah. Not anytime soon, anyway. The Hanson brothers are gone. Don't know how long for, or even if they'll ever come back."
"You think they got ran out of town?"
"Word on the street is they took off to find carnival work up in the big city. Been gone for at least a week now."
At this, Waddell's eyes darted around and he furrowed his brow as though he were putting together a complicated puzzle in his head. "So why is Joey Martin just now coming forward with this information? It sounds awful convenient, having all this time to think it over and hatch out this story--"
"For what?"
"To cover his own ass, of course."
"No. I don't suspect Joey Martin did it. I do suspect he's scared, though. And for good reason. Like he said, there's strength in numbers and those boys sure didn't think twice about their ambush on the Hanson fella. Imagine what they'd do to him if they found out he ratted them out. Except next time they'll be smarter about it. They'll do it where they can't be seen. Who knows if Joey will make it out alive?"
"You realize the finger is being pointed at Stanley Connors's son, right? The district attorney. That's an awful big accusation."
Finally, Lt. Parker shook his head with annoyance. "Is it, really? So he's immune, allowed to run amuck all over town and do whatever he pleases just because his daddy is somebody? That's not the way I operate, officer. You do the crime, you do the time. Now get me Bessie Harlow, Millie Jennings, Billy Connors, and Lawrence Baker. This case is getting wrapped up today."
****************
A short while later, Millie Jennings walked through the door. She was a breath of fresh air, with a pretty face to boot. If Lt. Parker wasn't already happily married with a family, he would have been right attracted to her. Her white, floral print dress, paired with her white gloves and her clutch, gave the room the temporary brightness that it much needed. Her soft, raven hair was pinned back off of her shoulders and her crimson smile radiated as she held out her hand to greet the lieutenant.
"How do you do?" She smiled.
"Why, I think I'll do," Lt. Parker smiled back. "Please, have a seat. This won't take very long."
Delicately, she took her seat where Joey Martin once resided and the two officers reclaimed their chairs across from her. Her perfume permeated the air which caused the lieutenant to smile once more. "Millie Jennings. Short for Mildred, I presume?"
"Yes, officer," she nodded.
"Say, what's your relationship with Joey Martin?" He asked, getting right down to business.
"He's my boyfriend," she stated.
In spite of himself, Lt. Parker couldn't help but exchange a curious glance with Officer Waddell. "Your, uh, boyfriend? As in a boy who is a friend?"
Millie shook her head. "No. My boyfriend." Then a smile crept across her face. "We're trying, anyway. Taking it slow, seeing where things take us. It's all so exciting and new!"
Lt. Parker remained in confusion, but he chose to let it be. "I see. And with your, uh, new found relationship with Mr. Martin, he says he told you about what he witnessed outside Anderson's Feed and Seed. That true?"
"Yes, officer."
"How about you tell us what he told you?"
"Well, didn't you just talk to him? I saw him outside when I got here."
Millie Jennings's pretty face was wearing thin on Lt. Parker rather quickly. Annoyed, he nodded. "Yes. And now we're talking to you. What did he tell you?"
"Well," she started simply. "He only just told me last night. He told me he was in the woods hiding behind a tree when he overheard Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker talking about the feed store. He said he overheard plans and conversation and everything. And then he felt bad because he saw Zac and Bessie at the gypsy party soon after and didn't say anything to them about it."
"Is that all?"
She nodded in thought. "Pretty much. He's scared Billy's football gang is gonna off him for knowing. But I convinced him that he had to come to the police. He couldn't carry a burden like that on his shoulders, you know?"
"So what about that night at that, uh, gypsy party you youngsters attended? You drove him there?"
"Of course. I already told the deputies that, it's right there in the report."
"And you were with him all night long?" He clarified. "Just like you said? Because Bessie Harlow said the only time she didn't see him was when it was time to leave the next morning--and she didn't see you, either."
Mille scoffed, stifling a laugh. "Well, we were there all night, Lieutenant, we had to sleep. Of course she didn't see us until the next morning."
"You mean the two of you didn't sleep in the same, uh, quarters? You and Miss Harlow?"
She blinked at him in thought as if her mind had drawn a temporary blank. "I found a patch of grass to rest my head on. I was very tired. Too tired, in fact, to be aware of my surroundings for most of the night."
"I see. So was it at all possible that Joey Martin could have made off in the middle of the night, vandalized the feed store, and snuck back in time to wake up the next morning?"
Suddenly, both Millie's head and her voice dropped. "Officer, I assure you. There was nobody at that camp that night who was in any shape to go anywhere, much less walk ten feet across the ground and actually making it to their destination. Joey Martin did not touch that store. That is the truth. So help me, God."
Lt. Parker stared Millie down for a moment in thought. The truth was, he had a million burning questions, he just wasn't sure he had them for her. So he smiled once again and he stood up, Millie and Waddell following suit. "Okay. I think we've heard enough here. Thank you, Miss Jennings, for your cooperation. Waddell, please see the young lady out the door. And send me Bessie Harlow, if she's here."
**************
Moments later, Bessie Harlow entered the dank room. She looked quaint in her short-sleeved day dress, white gloves, and white cloche hat. She smiled politely and Lt. Parker had opened his mouth to greet her when the human tower appeared behind her that was her father, and Lt. Parker found himself perplexed, but not surprised.
"Judge Harlow, how do you do? To what do we owe this pleasure, Bessie isn't a minor."
Judge Harlow's smile was tight-lipped as he removed his hat. "You called my daughter in for questioning. I'll accompany her if I please."
Young Bessie's cheeks turned a light crimson as she spoke to her father softly over her shoulder. "Daddy. You don't have to be in here. I can answer questions on my own. Besides, there...could be some things said that you might not want to hear..."
"I understand that that's a possibility. I'm willing to keep an open mind this time--"
Lt. Parker interrupted the pair. "Judge Harlow. You know very well that you can't be in here witnessing interrogations like this on a case you're most likely going to judge if it gets to that point."
The judge set his jaw in defiance. "If my daughter ever sits on that stand, you know I won't be judging it, anyway."
"Judge Harlow," Lt. Parker warned.
"Daddy," Bessie replied quietly.
His eyes darted between his daughter and the lieutenant before Judge Harlow's cheeks filled with visible heat and he nodded curtly and left the doorway. The tension immediately leaving the room, Lt. Parker smiled a relieved smile and motioned for Bessie to have a seat in what was becoming the day's hot seat across the table.
As she seated herself, Lt. Parker and Officer Waddell made themselves comfortable across from her. "Now, then. Miss Harlow. How are you? Are you comfortable? Can we get you some water?"
"No, thank you," she replied, still clutching her purse for dear life.
"Shall we get right to it, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"Miss Harlow, what is the nature of your relationship with Joey Martin?"
"Why, he's a very dear friend of mine."
"I see. And what do you know about what he witnessed before the feed store was vandalized?"
Finally, Bessie sighed, her nerves seemingly giving way. And then she let loose. "He told me at the Independence Day picnic. I felt so betrayed that he didn't come out with it sooner. What if Zac knew? What if he could have prevented it, having that prior knowledge? Then maybe Mr. Anderson's store would have never been vandalized and I wouldn't have to be upset at my close friend. Nobody would be having to go to any of this trouble."
Lt. Parker's voice softened. There was something about the young girl, something in her that just wouldn't allow him to bark at her like he did most others that sat in that very same chair. "I understand. But we must get to the bottom of who is responsible. So, if you please. What did Joey Martin tell you?"
Bessie took a slight deep breath. "He told me that a few nights before the gypsy party, he got into a fight with his father, so he went for a walk to get away for awhile. Along the way, he walked up on Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker in front of the feed store. He said they were drinking and smoking and talking about what to do to the store--"
"Drinking what?" He asked curiously.
She shook her head nonchalantly. "He didn't say. Anyway, then he said Billy talked about burning it down and that Lawrence talked about 'the fellas' and that they weren't going to burn it down. And then he said Billy told Lawrence to do whatever he wanted as long as it looked like Zac was guilty. Then they parted ways. When he told me the story, officer, honestly, it sounded like Billy didn't physically do it--he just orchestrated it all."
"That's what I'm gathering," he murmured.
"Joey is scared of them. And I would be, too. But I tried to convince him to go to the police anyway because I put my neck out on the line for him. Right in front of my daddy. And if he forbade me from ever seeing Zac again because of this, I could never forgive Joey. Of course, I didn't outright tell him that, but that's how I feel. Joey should have told to begin with."
"Yes. Yes, he should have--"
And then her jaws went a mile a minute. "He just kept saying he couldn't prove what he witnessed, but it couldn't have hurt him, either. And there are more than enough people who can tell anyone where Joey was at the night that it happened because he very literally sat next to me all night long--"
"Except for the time you didn't see him. Or your cousin, for that matter."
"Well, everyone went to sleep--"
"Tell me, Miss Harlow. How are all these people out in the woods, on a campground, camping more or less, sleeping outside in the grass all together--and neither you or Millie can say you saw each other when it was time to go to sleep or wake up? I'm still not able to wrap my head around that. All three of you say you were at this party or what have you, spending time together all night, but when it comes time to go to sleep, you all seem to lose track of each other all of a sudden. How does that happen?"
Suddenly, Bessie seemed to grow tense again as her eyes darted uncomfortably around the room. "Because...um...I didn't sleep outside..."
"Where did you sleep?"
Her eyes widened with what looked like fear. "Is this going on record?"
"Yes."
She cleared her throat, the red rising to her cheeks once more. "Um. I slept inside the Hansons' travel trailer. With Zac."
Well. Bessie Harlow sure wasn't kidding when she said her father might hear things he didn't want to hear.
Equally as uncomfortable as Bessie now, Lt. Parker cleared his throat and adjusted his seating in his chair. "Well, then. My next line of questioning was going to be on behalf of Zac since he isn't here to answer for himself, but I think that pretty much covers everything I need to know--"
"No, it doesn't," she stated bluntly.
"It doesn't?" He asked, his eyebrows raised.
"At the Independence Day picnic, after Joey told me what he saw, I confronted Billy and his chums. But I didn't tell them where I got the information. I just said I had a source."
"Oh? And what happened there?"
"I told him that I had a real good source that said that his friends are the ones who vandalized the store and that he was the one who told them to do it. Then his friend made fun of my trousers and Billy stuck up for me. Which I found odd. I also told him that his daddy was standing right there in the feed store when I told them why I knew Joey didn't do it. And Billy looked surprised, like he didn't know that. I think Billy still thought everyone thought Joey did it, even though his name was pretty much cleared right there on the spot."
Her last statement made the lieutenant more than curious, a nagging feeling that he didn't think he'd be able to shake anytime soon. "To be clear...you're saying that at the mention of his father's knowledge of what you're currently repeating to me...Billy looked surprised?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I'm not sure that Billy and his father speak very often. From my own personal perspective, that is."
"It appears that way," Lt. Parker murmured in thought. Then he brought himself back to the present long enough to thank Bessie for her time. "Well, then, Miss Harlow. I do believe that's all we needed to hear today. I appreciate your cooperation."
Officer Waddell had escorted Bessie out and come back in far too quick a time, no doubt because Judge Harlow was lurking around the corner, ready to snatch his daughter up. Lt. Parker supposed the judge had reason to be a protective father, what with her being his only daughter and she carrying on a relentless romantic relationship with a poor, vagabond gypsy. Zac Hanson was a good guy, though, despite a bump or two in the road he had suffered a few years back. Lt. Parker didn't know him on a personal level, but he knew enough to know that he and his brothers were good people. He hated not being able to get a statement from him today, though.
Looking up at Waddell as he stepped back into the room, Lt. Parker sat back in his chair. "Well. All three of their stories match."
Officer Waddell sat down beside him and looked him over for a moment before he spoke. "How do we know they didn't get together and plan this? You know, to cover Joey in case this came up?"
Lt. Parker shook his head in objection. "I suspect Millie Jennings was telling the truth. But I damn near guarantee that Bessie Harlow told the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help her God. She could have made up any story, any story at all about why she lost track of Joey and Millie the next morning. She could have covered herself. But she was honest with her risque confession. With her daddy being the judge around here, and her eyewitness account going on record like that, she ran a personal risk. She was definitely telling the truth."
"So. What now?'
"Take five. See if Lawrence Baker is out there. And get Patricia on some coffee and water, will you? I think we've only just begun here."
**************
When Lawrence Baker hulked in the doorway and walked through it, Lt. Parker was nervous for the first time that day. It had nothing to do with Lawrence's indisputable size or his social status--it was because he couldn't read him. Lawrence Baker, with his blue eyes and curly blonde hair, wore an expression that could be mistaken for either dumb or calculating. Or both. The lieutenant just couldn't be sure.
He wore a blue, collared, short-sleeved shirt and tan trousers and, when invited to sit, did so with more grace than Lt. Parker expected. After taking a quick moment to prepare himself, Lt. Parker settled himself in his own chair and looked across the table. "Lawrence Baker. Sports hero. Football star in Tulsa, Oklahoma City..."
Then Lawrence smiled, a smile that was big, oblivious, and proud. Lt. Parker was put at ease immediately. "Yes, sir, that's me."
This could be like taking candy from a baby.
Lt. Parker smiled back at him. "Got a lot of friends, don't you, Lawrence?"
"Yes, sir, I suppose I do."
"Bet you got so many, you couldn't count them all, could you?"
"Of course I can," Lawrence replied confidently.
Leaning across the table, Lt. Parker nodded to his left as he lowered his voice. "Yeah? Officer Waddell, here, says you can't."
Out of the corner of his eye, Lt. Parker could see Waddell's eyes widen and he knew he wanted to object and the lieutenant silently prayed that the young offer would keep his mouth shut.
If he ever did want to speak out, he never got the chance, because Lawrence was right on top of it. "I can so. Why there's Carl Smith, Harold Taylor..."
The list seemed to go on forever, and when he'd reached all ten fingers and started over, Lt. Parker glanced over at Waddell and stifled the smirk as the young officer picked up on what was going on and was writing furiously as Lawrence spoke. Lt. Parker was sure he'd never gotten a list of associates that easily in his entire career.
When Lawrence finally finished, Lt. Parker laughed and sat back in his chair. "My, that is impressive! Why, I think a memory like that deserves some kind of award! Wouldn't you agree, officer?"
Waddell nodded. "Oh, absolutely, of course!"
Lawrence was into it. He smiled and he nodded and he seemed to be getting obliviously excited. "Yeah? What kind of award?"
And then Lt. Parker stood up and laid down the gauntlet, slamming his hand down on the table under Lawrence's nose. "Immunity if you give us Billy Connors."
Lawrence's eyes widened, as he was caught completely off guard. "Excuse me? If I do what?"
"Just what I said. Billy Connors. Look, let's just cut to the chase here, Larry, okay? We know you and your chums wrecked the feed store. Okay? The entire department knows it."
The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about--"
Lt. Parker smiled, his voice softening into reason. "Billy's a charismatic guy, handsome, popular with the ladies...and his old man's the district attorney. I can understand why you'd want to go along with everything he says. You wouldn't want to get on his bad side where his daddy could bend any facts to his liking any way he sees fit. Right? So you do anything he tells you. You beat on innocent men, vandalize innocent feed stores...and for what? 'Cause you're scared of him? You're scared of his daddy--?"
"I ain't scared of nobody!" Lawrence cried out. "Billy's my very best pal, I wouldn't do anything to hurt that, including rat him out!"
"Rat him out, hmm? You say that like he may have done something worth ratting on."
"I didn't say anything like that."
Lt. Parker seated himself once more, lacing his fingers together on the table, and looking across at Lawrence. It wouldn't take much more to break him. Not much at all... "It must be difficult for you to be the right-hand man to someone like that, Larry. He's practically Tulsa's golden child. Getting everything he wants, racking up all the awards and trophies and recognition...just because he is who he is. But you're the real football star, Larry. We all know you are. We've been to the games, seen you in action. You're far more talented than Billy ever was. But, yet...you continue to lurk in the shadows while Billy soaks up all the undeserved glory. Has he ever acknowledged you for it? Has he ever stepped up and accepted anything on your behalf because you were more deserving? No. Not ever. What kind of a friendship is that? A give-and-take? You're giving and he's taking?"
Lawrence was silent. His eyes darted around the room in thought. This was it. Lt. Baker had him right where he wanted him.
"You know what I see, Larry? I see him giving you a lot of instruction and you taking it. I bet you wouldn't have beat up on Zac Hanson without your arm getting twisted and I know for a fact that you didn't want anything to do with that feed store, but he wanted you to do his bidding anyway, didn't he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lawrence muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Say, why doesn't Billy do his own dirty work? Why does he have you and the rest of his flunkies do it for him--?"
"We're not his flunkies!" Lawrence exploded in a sudden outburst.
Lt. Parker continued to keep his cool. "Sure, you are. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you count on one hand how many times Billy Connors has ever given a shit about what's going on with you? Huh? Can you?"
Lawrence narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as if to study Lt. Parker. Suddenly, the simple, blank expression had left his face and was replaced with one more alert and calculating. "Are you sitting here trying to say that my friends and I wrecked that feed store and Billy told us to do it?"
"Bingo," Lt. Parker smiled with satisfaction as he sat back in his chair.
"Well, you're wrong. Warn't nobody anywhere near any kind of feed store after dark at any time--"
Raising his eyebrows with surprise, the lieutenant replied, "Who says it was done after dark? Who says it wasn't done right after Zac Hanson locked up that day while it was still daylight?"
The discomfort returned to the football star's face as his eyes darted around the room once more. "Well...they're all saying it was like that."
"They who?"
Lawrence was growing agitated and it delighted Lt. Parker to no end. The boy adjusted in his chair and scowled at the lieutenant. "I don't know, everyone. All of Tulsa, people talking, you know!"
"What I do know is that it's funny that you mentioned after dark, seeing as there was an eyewitness that puts you in front of Anderson's Feed and Seed with Billy Connors a few nights before the vandalism, talking about what you guys were going to do to that place and how to make it look like it was an inside job."
"Who?"
"Are you admitting you were there?"
"No. Because that never happened. But I wanna know who's going around spreading lies about me."
"The tipper chose to remain anonymous. But they say that they hid behind a tree where they couldn't be seen and overheard the entire exchange. Someone saw you with their own two eyes and heard you with their own two ears about your entire plan to wreck the store. The jig is up. Now tell me about Billy Connors."
At that, Lawrence sat back in his chair and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "I'm not telling you about anything. Because you got lied to. Everything that you got told never happened. And I ain't answering no more questions, either. I'm done."
"That so?" Lt. Parker scoffed, amused.
"Yeah. I ain't done nothing, I ain't talked about nothing, and I don't know nothing. That's so."
"Well," Lt. Parker breathed in mock defeat as he rested his palms on the table and rose from his chair. "You're a grown man, I suppose. Can't hold you here. But I can tell you that this ain't over. Not by a long shot. I think you and I are going to become very good friends, Mr. Baker."
Glaring at the lieutenant, Lawrence Baker rose from his chair, nearly knocking it over, and let himself out of the room in a huff. Officer Waddell didn't seem to be in a hurry to escort the young brute out the door, anyway, and that was okay with Lt. Parker. Despite not getting what he wanted out of the boy, he thought the interrogation went rather well. After all, it was true what they said about actions speaking louder than words.
Apparently, Officer Waddell felt the same. "Well, then. That was interesting. Don't you think?"
"Guilty as sin, that one," Lt. Parker replied.
"We shoulda gotten a confession out of him. I think we coulda done it, we coulda broke him."
Lt. Parker shook his head. "If I want a confession out of anybody, it's Billy Connors. I'm not so much worried about a confession from Lawrence Baker. If this case ever makes it to trial, that kid will sing like a bird, I just know it." Then he paused and sighed, anticipating what was coming next. "Look out the door and see if Billy Connors has made it. If he has, send him in."
Officer Waddell stood from his chair and peeked around the doorway, swallowing audibly. Raising his eyebrows, he exclaimed, "Oh, he's here, all right. And he's got the district attorney in tow."
"Fantastic," Lt. Parker breathed sarcastically.
_______________________________
When Billy Connors walked into the police station with his father at his side, he already knew what he was there for. It wasn't difficult to deduce. What was curious, though, was the presence of Judge Harlow and Millie Jennings. Had Millie done something? Been accused of something? Had she finally slipped up and gotten caught drinking? Billy had to smirk to himself. Some people just weren't that smart, were they?
His father approached the judge and the pair of them spoke in murmurs very briefly before his father returned in a huff to his side, taking a seat in the chair beside him. Neither father or son spoke to one another. The walls had ears and they weren't willing to test them out.
Footsteps that clicked lightly down a small corridor ahead of them caused Billy to look up and his eyes widened as he spied Bessie Harlow joining her father and her cousin as they quietly interacted with two other officers. He didn't have time to pay attention to how pretty she looked as much as he felt the sting of the betrayal. It was no secret at all that Billy was not Bessie's favorite person, but he sure didn't think she would be the type to rat someone out based purely on hearsay. It just wasn't like her.
When he heard Lawrence Baker's name get called out by an officer standing at the end of the corridor, Billy's head whipped around this way and that. He hadn't seen Lawrence when he walked in. What was he doing here? Of course. Billy and Lawrence were the only names Bessie had, no wonder the rest of the fellas weren't present. Billy fumed and he steamed and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks as his eyes cut daggers at the judge's pretty, young daughter. If this was what she wanted, so be it. For the rest of this summer he would be on her like white on rice and the very first time he witnessed her doing something illegal or immoral he would sing it from the rooftops. No way would she rat Billy Connors out and get by with it.
When it was finally Billy's turn to enter the interrogation room, he was fit to be tied. Nobody was going to shake anything out of him, not even the most talented, seasoned officer. It just wasn't going to happen. Bessie Harlow would come out of this looking like the fool, not Billy. Still, though. He wished he'd had an opportunity to speak with Lawrence before going in.
"Hello, Billy," Lt. Parker greeted him as he walked in the door. "District Attorney. Had a feeling you might be here today."
Billy was familiar with Lt. Don Parker from this past New Year's Eve party at the governor's mansion. He seemed like a likable person. A little uptight, but still likable. Billy couldn't decide how he was supposed to feel in his current situation.
"Of course I'm here, what did you expect?" His father replied boisterously.
"I had hoped that as a grown adult man, that Billy, here, would be allowed to do this on his own," Lt. Parker stated simply.
"Whatever it is that he is 'doing,' I am his attorney. So he does or says nothing without my say so."
Suddenly, Billy had had enough of his father. Lt. Parker was right, Billy was a grown man. He didn't need anybody to hold his hand through this. He was no stranger to the workings of the law and he certainly didn't need his old man to treat him like he was. "Yeah?" He spat at his father. "As my 'attorney,' isn't it your job to always be forthcoming with necessary information?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" His father asked him.
Billy glared directly at his father. "How about the fact that Joey Martin got his name cleared in front of your face and you walked around and let me believe different?"
Lt. Parker's entire face seemed to perk up at this statement, but Billy chose to ignore it.
Meanwhile, his father was growing anxious--something he seemed to do best lately. "That's it. You keep your mouth shut, you're not required to say anything else--"
"Bessie Harlow told me, you know," Billy shot back at him. "She walked up to me at the Independence Day picnic and accused me of having something to do with trashing that store. And when I brought up Joey Martin, she said it was already determined that he didn't do it and that you knew about it! What the hell kind of attorney are you, anyway?"
Lt. Parker didn't resist butting in. "Are you saying that you feel that you're in need of an attorney, Billy?"
"Don't answer that," his father said hastily.
Instead, Billy raised his chin in defiance. "Well, I don't know. When I got people walking around all over town accusing me of nonsense and a so-called attorney that can't be honest with me, I'm kinda torn on the subject, if I may be frank about it."
"Well, Billy," Lt. Parker began. "I gotta ask you a few questions today. And I need to know whether I'm asking you or whether I'm asking your attorney. We don't have much time to dilly dally, here, it's been a long day already. Whatever the two of you have going on at home is your business. But right now, this interrogation room is my house and we need to keep our business on the subject at hand."
"Is that what this is?" Billy asked, finally acknowledging the lieutenant. "Am I being interrogated?"
"That depends on you and your level of cooperation. You could either answer the few questions I have for you or I could interrogate you. Your choice."
"His attorney will be present," Billy's father cut in.
Lt. Parker arched an eyebrow and Billy swore he saw a hint of amusement in his eye. "All right, then. When will he be here?"
"Excuse me?"
"I am an officer of the law, District Attorney. Even I know that it's out of your jurisdiction to be a personal defender of any individual, family or not. You represent the county. Not the individual. Now I'll ask again. When will his attorney be here?"
Billy's father could only stare blankly at the lieutenant.
Meanwhile, Billy was humiliated and outraged, whipping his entire body around to face his father. "You mean I don't have an attorney?!"
"How in the hell do you grow up in my house and study law in school and not know what I do, son?" His father sneered at him.
"How in the hell do you allow me to grow up believing the things I believe?"
"I've had enough of this," Lt. Parker cut in sternly. "District Attorney, if you'll be so kind as to see yourself out so that we may get on with this--"
The heat rose to Billy's father's face so fast, he thought the old man might have a heart attack based on the shade of red that now covered every inch of his skin above his shoulders. "I'll have you know, just so we're clear, that whatever game you're playing here, Lieutenant, you're wasting your time. Because I will not allow it to go to trial. Not ever. You understand that?"
Lt. Parker's expression remained stone cold. "Are you through? I'm getting impatient."
*************
Minutes later, Billy was sitting in a chair in the dank, brick interrogation room, nearly blinded by the light bulb that hung overhead, and staring across the table at Lt. Parker and Officer Waddell, an officer Billy didn't recognize. To help shield his eyes, the tall football star hunkered down in his chair and made himself comfortable.
"Looks like it's just you and me," Lt. Parker began. "And Officer Waddell, here."
"Clearly," Billy muttered.
"I take that little exchange that just happened to mean that there's not a lot communication taking place in your household."
"Let's just say that growing up means learning new things."
"Sounds like you're learning a lot of new things. Like the way Joey Martin isn't responsible for the vandalism at the feed store."
Billy narrowed his eyes and nodded at the lieutenant. "Let's just cut to the chase. I know how this works. You ask me questions, you bully the answers out of me. I break down into tears with a harrowing, yet unsurprising confession, and you come out the town hero. You and I both know that garnering a confession out of me has nothing to do with finding justice for old Burt Anderson. It has everything to do with politics."
"Something you think you ought to confess? You know, since I'm apparently here to get one out of you?"
"Why else would I be here?"
"Very well, then," the lieutenant nodded solemnly. "I'm giving you one last chance at your right to an attorney--a suitable attorney--before this questioning gets started."
"I'm waiving my right, I don't need a damned attorney 'cause I haven't done anything," Billy spat.
"Well, that, I can honestly agree with."
"Then we're finished here."
"No, that's exactly why we're here."
"I'm not following," Billy replied, eying the man suspiciously.
Lt. Parker blinked across the table matter-of-factly. "The first thing I'll tell you is we have names. A whole list of them, with Lawrence Baker at the top of it. You know, since he was so gracious to provide the list to us to begin with. Only seemed fitting to give him top billing. Wouldn't you agree?"
"A list of names for what?"
"Why, a list of the names who vandalized Anderson's Feed and Seed, of course."
"That's impossible. You're lying."
Lt. Parker turned his head toward his bumbling cohort. "Officer. If you will."
Officer Waddell slid a sheet of paper rapidly over the table at Billy and Billy snatched it from under his fingertips. Glancing quickly down the list, his heart sank but he fought not to show it on his face. Every name. Every single one of them.
Lawrence...
Billy's jaw tightened as Lt. Parker's voice broke the silence. "You see whose name's not on that list?"
Billy scoffed. "Yeah. Mine."
"Exactly. Your name's not on the list because you didn't do it."
"You're damn right I didn't do it. Are we done now? I have things to do."
"You didn't do it. But you orchestrated the entire thing. You found out that Burt Anderson was out of town and you seized it as a perfect opportunity to get at Zac Hanson."
Billy couldn't help himself. He shook his head and he laughed. "Orchestrated? Jeez, lieutenant, you're making me out to look like some kind of mob boss or something. How in the hell is trashing the feed store going to get me any kind of satisfaction of a retaliation against that gypsy? I'd love to hear it."
"You'd do anything to make his life hell, I bet it doesn't even matter what it is," Lt. Parker deduced knowingly. "You're the only person in this town who has a personal vendetta against him, everybody knows it. Of course all fingers point to you. They always will. But you know what makes this situation a little more different than pointing fingers? Witnesses."
"Witnesses? You've lost your damn mind."
"Have I?"
"Yes. Either you're making up your witnesses or they're all crazy as hell, because there wasn't anything to witness. Because I didn't orchestrate anything and Larry and the boys didn't trash no store. End of discussion."
Lt. Parker tapped his fingers in thought on the table for the moment before sitting back in his chair and studying Billy with an expression that made the young man slightly uncomfortable. "So...you're telling me that several nights before the vandalism, you and Lawrence Baker weren't outside the feed store, smoking and drinking and plotting revenge against Zac Hanson, using the store as a pawn. You're telling me that you didn't order Lawrence to burn it down and when he objected, told him to do whatever he wanted as long as it looked like Zac Hanson did it. Is that what I'm to understand?"
"Precisely."
"Anonymous eyewitness begs to differ."
"Oh, come on! You can't pull that shit on me, do you know who I am? There is absolutely no eyewitness to anything, you just want a confession so you can wrap this case up! That's all this is about. Nobody cares who really did it, just so long as someone fesses up to it. You think I don't know this game? You're barking up the wrong tree, old man!"
"Awful hostile for an innocent man, aren't we?"
"You call this hostile? Why don't you trade chairs with me and let me accuse you of heading up an organized crime. Come on. Even you know this is bullshit."
"Then tell me about Bessie Harlow."
Billy was caught off guard momentarily and he immediately noticed the change in his heartbeat as it started to slow. What was it about the thought of her lately that seemed to calm him? He didn't like it. And he certainly didn't welcome it. "What about her?" He murmured.
"If you're so adamant that we're crazy and we're making this up, why did she feel the need to confront you at the Independence Day picnic with the same story that we just heard today?"
"You pretty much just answered yourself, did you hear it? They had time to plan this whole thing, they had time to come in here and blame it on me after Bessie got an earful of the lies she came to me with. Yeah. So it's no secret that I hate her boyfriend. Okay? So what? He's too old for her, he's too poor for her, and he's a loose cannon--"
Lt. Parker narrowed his blue eyes across the table and a hint of a smirk crossed his lips. "You sweet on Bessie Harlow, Billy?"
Billy glared across the table at the lieutenant's smug expression. "Not the point. Anyway, of course they're going to try to pin something on me. And she's gonna do and believe every word of it to keep her beau's name clear. Whoever's filling her head with that garbage knows just how to wrap her, because she's gullible. She's young, she's impressionable, she's naive, and she's gullible. And she's believing the very same bullshit lies that you're believing and, to be quite honest, I'm tired of being the brunt of all of this. That gypsy and I got into a scuffle once. And I got my ass handed to me. You think I want to put myself in that kind of situation again? Look where it got me."
"Exactly the point. You don't want to get into that kind of situation again, so you send your friends out to do the dirty work for you. They do the crime, they do the time, and you stand off in the shadows and watch it all go down. You're a coward, Billy Connors. Plain and simple."
"I am not a coward!" Billy was hot. How dare he call him a coward? Billy Connors spent his spare time barreling into hulking men, taking the licks and rolling with the punches. Cowards didn't put themselves through that. No. Cowards lurked in the shadows and eavesdropped on conversations and narked to the cops. By now he knew the rat wasn't Bessie Harlow, but a male. A male coward.
"And you're scared shitless of Zac Hanson," Lt. Parker pleasantly sneered.
"I am not scared of a low-down, dirty gypsy--!"
"He's taking everything away from you. Your girl--"
Billy scoffed loudly and shook his head. "He never had my girl."
"Oh? Your initial conflict with him wasn't over Bessie Harlow? You didn't just take her out to lunch the very moment the Hansons left town?"
"What?"
"My son was at the diner that day. Zac Hanson is becoming Tulsa's golden boy, though, fast and steady. Taking it right out from under you. And he didn't need football to do it."
"No. He just needed to wrap the right people around his dirty gypsy fingers." The phrase came out in a near pout, but Billy didn't care anymore. There was nothing he hated more on this earth than Zac Hanson and having him be the subject of discussion right now was not helping his already-sour mood. He almost rathered to confess to the crime and get it over with but he wouldn't dare give Zac Hanson the satisfaction.
"Seems like all of Tulsa likes the guy," Lt. Parker continued. "Not that they ever didn't like him. But all the buzz is about him now. He's likeable, he's trustworthy, he's generous and considerate--"
"Oh, please. Zac Hanson is a barbarian. A savage. He's wild. He has no college education, no job, no future, no shame, he's short-tempered and violent, he's a drinker, a smoker, a thief, and an all-round menace. He is absolutely the worst influence on poor Bessie Harlow that there can be and yet he's managed to dupe her and her father into thinking he's some kind of saint! What he really is, is a con artist. I mean, look at what he does. He gets paid to be a con artist. Think about it. The guy's a complete phony. And I say good riddance to him and his brothers. Tulsa has been much better off since he's been gone."
"You mean you've been better off since he's been gone. Why, since he's been gone there's no trouble for you to get into, nobody to take any attention away from you and Miss Harlow, well...she's just ripe for the taking, isn't she? With absolutely nobody standing in your way."
Something about this conversation was beginning to make Billy uncomfortable and he squirmed around in his chair as a result. "Why in the hell are we talking about Bessie Harlow all of a sudden?"
"Because every damn time you get involved in something, she seems to be right in the middle of it. Am I the only one who sees that, here?"
"Only by default. Because she's unnaturally gaga for the guy. If he wasn't dating her, she wouldn't be in the center of anything."
"If he wasn't dating her, none of this would have ever even gotten started. Am I correct?"
Billy shrugged. "Technically. I suppose."
"So. You hate Zac Hanson so much that you were willing to desecrate a beloved Tulsa establishment just to get your point across."
"No."
Lt. Parker leaned forward over the table, his eyes intensely glaring into Billy's, his fingers laced together in front of him. "Let's just stop lying here, Billy. I already have the eyewitness. I already have the names. I already know you were the mastermind behind it."
"I think I reserve the right to know who this 'eyewitness' is. And you can't say it has nothing to do with Bessie Harlow because I saw her as I was walking in here. Is it her so-called source? Is that who it is?"
"Anonymous is anonymous."
"Anonymous is bullshit and it's code for you've got nothing and you're trying to pin some shit on me that isn't true. And I'm not going to sit here and be harassed like this any longer. So, either you've got something real and tangible or you're wasting my time."
"Are you admitting you know something about the vandalism, then?"
"No. I don't know anything about anything."
"Well," Lt. Parker replied, letting out a breath, appearing to concede. "All right, then."
"All right, then? What, that's it? No shakedown, no good cop bad cop routine, nothing?"
"Is that what you wanted?"
"Would have been a lot more worth my time."
"Look, Billy. The truth is, we all know you're responsible for this. I know you are, you know you are. But to be honest, all we got is one guy who overheard a conversation in the dark. Nobody actually witnessed the vandalism. So we have no tangible evidence to convict with. But you mark my words, and you can pass this message along to all your little football buddies, that we have our eyes on you. Every last one of you, none of you will even be able to take a shit without us knowing about it. Do you understand?"
Billy sat back with a smug smile of triumph on his face. "Now are you finished?"
Lt. Parker sighed with defeat. "You're free to go."
"Thank God," Billy replied. It took him no time to be out of the chair and out of that stuffy room. He didn't dare look in either of the officer's directions as he left.
**************
Once outside the station, Billy dug a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and wasted no time lighting one up as he observed his surroundings in the hot July sun. His father was nowhere to be found, but Lawrence Baker suddenly seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
"Well? What happened?"
Preparing to answer, Billy opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, choosing to take another drag of his cigarette as he stared off at the sidewalk behind Lawrence. The street in front of the station was nicely landscaped with freshly cut grass, tall bushes on the side they stood on, and thin, strategically-placed trees on the other side of the sidewalk. Down the sidewalk, Bessie Harlow took small, calculated steps in the opposite direction.
Glancing behind him, Lawrence had followed Billy's gaze and then turned back to him, screwing his face up with displeasure. "You know, your little plan to 'woo' Bessie Harlow isn't working out so well for us."
"Yeah, I'm aware."
"It sure as hell isn't keeping her mouth shut. She was coming out of the interrogation room when they called me in. Something had to have happened to make her want to rat us out all of a sudden."
"It wasn't her," Billy corrected him quickly.
"What?"
"It wasn't her. Remember her 'source?' Turns out, they put in an anonymous tip."
"She is the 'source,'" Lawrence argued. "Can't you see that? It's all a big conspiracy theory to get one of us to fess up!"
Billy shook his head as he took another calm drag of his cigarette. "No. Bessie is a lot of things--naive, innocent, inexperienced, stubborn-headed...but she's not deceitful. She wouldn't go pointing fingers without being provoked." Pausing to look in the direction Bessie had walked in once more, his eyes widened at the new scene that had developed. Joey Martin had come out of nowhere and joined her on the sidewalk and now the pair walked close together, obviously in deep conversation. It made sense. Perfect sense, why hadn't he suspected it before? "Shit..."
"What?" Lawrence asked.
"Anonymous is none other than that Joey Martin queer. God damn it, he was there that night. Right in earshot, heard it all. I should have known from the beginning!"
"Joey Martin? Are you sure? How did we not know he was there?"
"I don't know. But what I do know is that Anonymous isn't so anonymous anymore. And I'll be damned if he does anymore flapping of those gums."
"How can you be for sure it was Joey?"
"Call it a hunch."
"William," Billy's father's voice suddenly rang out from behind them.
Rolling his eyes, Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his toe. "Shit," he hissed under his breath.
He was met with a firm hand on the back of his neck. "You and I better start home, son. It seems we have a few things we need to get off our chests, huh?"
"Sure," Billy muttered. "Why not."
After saying a nonchalant goodbye to Lawrence, Billy headed with his father to their car. This day just kept getting better and better, didn't it? Suddenly, he couldn't wait until tonight when his parents went to bed and he could swipe the key to his father's secret liquor cabinet.
Dear Zac,
I'm so nervous right now. I wish you were here. Today was awful. Just awful. I'm so glad it's over. Did I tell you about Joey knowing what happened to the feed store? I've written so many letters now, I'm beginning to lose track. Anyway, he decided to finally report what he witnessed to the police and they ended up calling us all in--me and Millie and Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker. I don't know what came of it or what's going to happen now, but I know Joey's more scared now than he ever has been. I should probably be scared too, as I talked A LOT to Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell. They were both very nice and easy to talk to and I think I turned into a chatterbox just like Daddy used to call me. I just wanted them to know the truth. I wanted them to know everything I knew.
I need you so much right now. I need to feel your arms around me. I need to feel your breath in my ear as you tell me that everything is going to be okay. I feel so safe with you, so comfortable and at ease. I want to sleep outside at our tree underneath the stars and hold your hand and talk for hours. I want you to rest your head in my lap so I can play with your hair and I want to listen to your heartbeat as I lay my ear against your chest. I'm so proud of you. I've never been more proud of anyone, but--I wish you would please come home. Please. I miss you so much.
I'm sorry this letter is short, but I'm so exhausted after this day. I think something else is brewing that's unrelated to the feed store because as soon as we got home, Daddy was on the telephone for a good part of the afternoon, and then he ran out to go to work and worked well into the evening, missing supper. That's not like him. He's never done that before.
Anyway, Scout is here in bed with me, so I'm glad I have him to snuggle with. I'm going to put this book of letters away, letters you won't read until after you come home, and go to sleep. I hope to dream of you tonight, my love. Please come to me in my dreams and tell me how much you love me. Tell me a love poem. And bring wildflowers. Please. Just come to me.
Yours Forever and Always,
Bessie
Joey Martin's nerves were shot to death by the time he reached the Tulsa Police Department in the mid morning's nearly three digit temperature. He didn't have time to be bothered with the way he smoldered under the heat as he stared up at the building, however. His entire walk to the station had been spent more worried about looking over his shoulder and keeping a constant eye on his surroundings so that certain individuals may not witness his journey. It was bad enough that he was having to do this as it was.
It occurred to Joey, as he walked in the door, that he'd never been inside the police department headquarters before. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he had to admit surprise at the simplicity that befell him. Along the wall by the door was a row of chairs that sat underneath a window nearly as wide as the building that was covered by a pull-down shade to shield the facility from the sun that undoubtedly beat down brutally upon the room. Across from the row of chairs was a long, stained wood counter with two officers seated behind it. Behind them, a series of desks sat openly to fill the area and then off to the left, the back wall disappeared into a small hallway. Apparently there wasn't much activity that day as the station was deafeningly quiet, which was something that made Joey highly uncomfortable. Cautiously he approached the desk and spoke to the first officer that caught his eye.
"Um, good morning," he said nervously. "I, um, I need to speak to someone. About, uh, about something I witnessed."
The officer with the pale skin and black comb-over looked back at Joey, unamused. "What did you witness?"
As Joey cleared his throat, his eyes darted around. "Uh, it's about Anderson's Feed and Seed."
Suddenly the unamused officer's demeanor changed and he nearly jumped out of his chair. "Give me a second, will you?"
Watching the officer dart down the small hallway, Joey's palms began to sweat. On that stifling hot day, he couldn't help but feel a chill in the air, standing in the middle of the police station. He knew it was his own nerves playing tricks on him. He'd hardly had any sleep the night before as he ran the possibilities of this day over and over in his head. What if the police were Billy sympathizers? What if they were football sympathizers? What if they didn't believe him? What if he got arrested instead? What if he said the wrong thing? What if? What if?
As Joey's mind wandered, the officer returned and waved Joey around the desk. "Come on back. I think Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell are interested in speaking with you."
As Joey followed, he self-consciously slid his hand over his short, red hair, and made sure that his white, short-sleeved button-down and tan trousers were neat and straight. As the officer walked him to a heavy, metal door and opened it up, Joey thought his heart might very well burst right out of his chest from fear.
The officer smiled, which was of little comfort to Joey, and he invited him to have a seat at a table that only boasted three chairs--one on one side and two on the other. There were no windows, the brick walls were painted with a dark color that was currently indiscernible between green or blue, and a light bulb hung low to the table. It looked like prison. Joey almost offered up his own wrists to the officer that now informed him that Lieutenant Parker and Officer Waddell would be right with hm. And then the officer was gone.
Joey could leave. Anytime he wanted to, he was free to walk out that door. He wasn't actually under arrest, no matter how much it felt like he was. He wasn't a prisoner, he hadn't been escorted in a squad car, and his ankles weren't shackled. But he remained seated, remembering the promise he'd made to Millie, and he sweated bullets until two men in uniform walked into the room.
They dressed in black from head to toe, though it was easy to tell Lieutenant Parker from Officer Waddell. Waddell looked like your average ordinary officer in his black pants, black button-down, black tie, and black police hat. Lieutenant Parker stood a little taller and a little leaner than Waddell, a man clearly in his late thirties with dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes. If Joey wasn't such a nervous wreck, he would have recognized how handsome he was. Lt. Parker wore a similar uniform as Waddell, no hat, with his collar and shoulders decorated with his honors.
The two officers sat down across from him, surprisingly extending their arms across the table to shake Joey's hand. "Joey Martin, I presume?" Lt. Parker addressed him.
"Um, yes, sir," he replied.
Lt. Parker smiled. "Well, I'm Lieutenant Don Parker and this, here, is Officer Paul Waddell. It's our understanding that you have something to get off your chest?"
Joey swallowed hard and looked back and forth between the two men. "I, um, I know something about the vandalism at the feed store."
Lt. Parker studied him for a moment before he sat back in his chair. "That so? You already told the deputies what you knew, didn't you? Your alibi came across pretty solid, what with Bessie Harlow confessing to spending the night with her boyfriend right in front of her daddy. Don't get much more solid than that," he chuckled.
"Well, yeah, but--but I didn't--well--I didn't get the opportunity to go into...detail..."
Lt. Parker raised his eyebrow at Joey across the table. "You're not telling me you committed perjury, are you, son?"
"No. No, I didn't lie--"
"But you withheld information."
Suddenly, Joey forgot his nerves and went on the defensive. "You don't understand! You saw what those guys are capable of! Zac Hanson didn't even rat on any of them and they still beat him to a bloody pulp! What chance do you think I have?"
Lt. Parker leaned forward and laced his hands together on the table. "Okay, okay, slow down for a minute, boy, what are you saying here? Are you saying the Baker boy and his group of chums is responsible for this? Do you have proof?"
"Well, I didn't actually see them do it--"
"Now, look, we don't have time for speculation around here--"
"You're not listening! I haven't even gotten to it, yet!"
"Well, spit it out, boy, we got things to do around here."
The nerves returned to Joey's body and he took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs underneath the table. "One night--before the gypsy camp party--my father and I got into a fight and I had to get out of the house for awhile. It was late. After dark. And I went for a walk. And, you see, my house ain't too far from the feed store--"
"We're aware," Lt. Parker deadpanned.
"And, so, like I said, I was out walking. And I passed by the feed store along the way. And as I approached, I heard voices on the street outside of the street and when I realized who they belonged to, I hid behind a tree where it was too dark for them to see me."
"Them who?"
"Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker."
"Those two?"
"Yes."
"Just them?"
"Yes."
Lt. Parker raised his eyebrows. "And you saw them? You're sure it was them?"
"Yes, sir," Joey replied with confidence. "I heard Lawrence say Billy's name, too."
At this, Lt. Parker paused and looked over at the officer next to him, seemingly giving him the once-over. "You didn't bring paper?"
"Uh, no, Lieutenant, you didn't say to bring any."
"How in the hell are we going to take down a statement, Waddell, if we don't have paper?"
In a flash, Waddell was out of his chair and out the door and Lt. Parker smiled sheepishly across the table amidst the light bulb that hung overhead. "You'll have to excuse Officer Waddell. Fella's just a rookie. Seems to be catching on, though."
Joey could only nod. While he was grateful for the temporary hitch in their conversation, he was still just as nervous as ever. How did he sound? Did he sound nervous? Did he sound like he was lying? Was he sputtering, thinking too long about his responses? Did he look guilty?
Millions of these questions swam around in Joey's head as Officer Waddell practically clamored back into the room and into his seat, pen and paper poised in front of him. "Sorry, Lieutenant. I'm ready now."
Lt. Parker ignored him and focused his attention on Joey. "Okay, son. Start from the beginning. Don't leave anything out."
Joey began by repeating what he had already told the pair. He repeated it slowly as Officer Waddell scribbled furiously across the pages. Briefly, Joey wondered if he'd actually be able to read it when he was finished before he was swiftly brought back to the present. "I think I caught them in mid-conversation because they were already talking about it. It sounded like they were talking about options or plans to retaliate against Zac. Lawrence didn't sound like he was too keen on the idea, but Billy seemed adamant. Billy said it had to be now 'while the old man's out of town.' He said that too many people are trusting Zac now and soon the Hansons would be running Tulsa. Then Lawrence suggested making it look like a robbery but Billy wanted him to burn it down. Except that Lawrence wasn't having it and he said he wouldn't 'encourage the boys' to do that, either. Then Billy told Lawrence to do whatever he wanted, he didn't care. He said that as long as something bad happened to the store while Zac was running it, that was all that mattered. Was convinced that Mr. Anderson might accuse it of being an inside job and that Zac would lose everything because of it. And then they ended their conversation and went their separate ways."
"That quickly?" Lt. Parker replied.
"That's how I remember it, yes. And then you saw that happened next."
"Yes, yes," Lt. Parker said in thought. "And as I recall, you were one of the only people who weren't at the store that day to help out."
"I had work to do at home. Your deputies found me there, I wasn't hiding."
"You realize that Mr. Anderson thought you had done it based on the, uh...male genitalia that was drawn in mud on the side of the building? He was sure of it. Said you used to draw them all the time while you and Billy goofed around as kids."
Joey fought to hide a smile. "I'm an artist. I draw, paint, sculpt, I do everything. My dad doesn't approve and that's what we fought about. With all due respect, officer, if I was going to draw anything--be it male genitalia or anything else--it's going to look like a work of art, not like a five-year-old did it."
"How do you know what the drawing looked like if you weren't there?"
"Because when Billy and I worked together, what Mr. Anderson said was true, we did goof off a lot. And Billy was the one doing all the drawing, not me. I mean, you know...me...most people pretend not to know but I know they do. And I'm not the type who would go out of their way to do things to draw attention to...certain aspects of myself. I'm only asking for it that way. Hell, I'm asking for it just sitting here right now. That being said, I wish to remain anonymous. I want this tip to be anonymous. Because I'm not ashamed to admit it, those guys make me nervous. There's strength in numbers and Zac was lucky to survive that ambush. I don't want to be the one they finish off. Okay?"
Lt. Parker nodded. "Fair enough. That can be arranged. We can't control who sees you come in and out of this station, though."
"I understand, thank you."
"Anybody else know what you witnessed?"
"Yes," Joey replied sullenly. "The guilt weighed so heavy on my mind and I felt like I betrayed one of my only best friends. So I told Bessie Harlow. And Millie Jennings. Nobody else but them."
"You do realize we'll likely have to call both of those ladies in to corroborate your story..."
"Yes, sir."
"No doubt it'll wash, you haven't steered me wrong, yet, son. Just standard procedure and such, you know. After all, we want to catch the ones who did this to old Anderson's store. Tragic thing to happen to that old man. And to his hired help, no matter who it may be."
"Yes, sir, I agree," Joey said.
At that, Lt. Parker stood up and extended his arm across the table once more. "I appreciate you coming forward with this information, Mr. Martin. You've been a big help. Brave thing you've done, standing up against those football boys. I know a lot of people would be too scared to."
"Thank you, sir," Joey replied with a sheepish smile. "Truth is, I was too scared to, that's why it took me so long. But I made a promise to Millie Jennings and I like to keep my promises."
"That's admirable of you. Well, son, you're free to go. Waddell will escort you out of the station. You have a good day now."
Before he knew it, Joey was out of the cool indoors and out underneath the blazing hot sun. On instinct, he looked around nervously before he took off briskly toward home, ignoring the near immediate sweat that began to bead on his face. He didn't care how hot it was. He was just ready to get safely home. On one hand, he felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Unfortunately, it seemed to be replaced with a whole new weight and brand new questions occupying his constantly busy mind. Could he trust the police? What if they slipped up somewhere? What if their conversation ended up on the front page of the paper? What if--?
What if they had already called Millie and Bessie?
Apparently, they had. Because he couldn't help himself as he slowed to a stop long enough to watch Judge Harlow's car, carrying Millie and Bessie, as it passed him by.
After a moment, he started back on his journey, only getting three or four steps in before he turned on his heel and headed back in the direction from which he came. They were there because of him. He couldn't abandon them now. What he could do, though, was hide safely in the shade of the bushes alongside the building. After all, if they called Millie and Bessie, he could only imagine who else they'd called. The girls shouldn't be long, anyway. Or if he was lucky, heat stroke would get the best of him before it was all said and done.
_______________________________
"Well, what do you think?" Officer Waddell asked. "He's pointing the finger at the DA's son."
Lt. Parker sat in the chair in the interrogation room and let out a breath, his mind going a mile a minute since Waddell had escorted Joey Martin out of the room. It was a sticky situation, accusing an elected official's offspring of any sort of crime. As far as the crime went, it was mild in comparison to things he'd seen desperate men do since the stock market crash. The only difference was, Waddell was right. The finger was being pointed at the DA's son. It would be far from an open and shut case. That was, if it even left the interrogation room.
"Honestly?" The lieutenant replied. "They're the first boys I thought of, too. Until I saw that Joey was absent from the scene and Billy Connors was all over the place. And especially since Mr. Anderson thought it was Joey from the get-go. Makes perfect sense, though, Billy behind it, if you ask me. His grudge against Zac Hanson is no secret around here."
"That doesn't make any sense, though. They got their licks in on Zac, why would they need to do any further to him?"
"Because they got caught. Plain and simple. They were stupid and were caught red-handed. And it worked out in Zac's favor once again. Just like this did..."
Officer Waddell tapped his pen against his pad of paper in thought for a moment. "So, what, should we be on the lookout for another retaliation? Providing they were the ones who trashed the store..."
"Nah. Not anytime soon, anyway. The Hanson brothers are gone. Don't know how long for, or even if they'll ever come back."
"You think they got ran out of town?"
"Word on the street is they took off to find carnival work up in the big city. Been gone for at least a week now."
At this, Waddell's eyes darted around and he furrowed his brow as though he were putting together a complicated puzzle in his head. "So why is Joey Martin just now coming forward with this information? It sounds awful convenient, having all this time to think it over and hatch out this story--"
"For what?"
"To cover his own ass, of course."
"No. I don't suspect Joey Martin did it. I do suspect he's scared, though. And for good reason. Like he said, there's strength in numbers and those boys sure didn't think twice about their ambush on the Hanson fella. Imagine what they'd do to him if they found out he ratted them out. Except next time they'll be smarter about it. They'll do it where they can't be seen. Who knows if Joey will make it out alive?"
"You realize the finger is being pointed at Stanley Connors's son, right? The district attorney. That's an awful big accusation."
Finally, Lt. Parker shook his head with annoyance. "Is it, really? So he's immune, allowed to run amuck all over town and do whatever he pleases just because his daddy is somebody? That's not the way I operate, officer. You do the crime, you do the time. Now get me Bessie Harlow, Millie Jennings, Billy Connors, and Lawrence Baker. This case is getting wrapped up today."
****************
A short while later, Millie Jennings walked through the door. She was a breath of fresh air, with a pretty face to boot. If Lt. Parker wasn't already happily married with a family, he would have been right attracted to her. Her white, floral print dress, paired with her white gloves and her clutch, gave the room the temporary brightness that it much needed. Her soft, raven hair was pinned back off of her shoulders and her crimson smile radiated as she held out her hand to greet the lieutenant.
"How do you do?" She smiled.
"Why, I think I'll do," Lt. Parker smiled back. "Please, have a seat. This won't take very long."
Delicately, she took her seat where Joey Martin once resided and the two officers reclaimed their chairs across from her. Her perfume permeated the air which caused the lieutenant to smile once more. "Millie Jennings. Short for Mildred, I presume?"
"Yes, officer," she nodded.
"Say, what's your relationship with Joey Martin?" He asked, getting right down to business.
"He's my boyfriend," she stated.
In spite of himself, Lt. Parker couldn't help but exchange a curious glance with Officer Waddell. "Your, uh, boyfriend? As in a boy who is a friend?"
Millie shook her head. "No. My boyfriend." Then a smile crept across her face. "We're trying, anyway. Taking it slow, seeing where things take us. It's all so exciting and new!"
Lt. Parker remained in confusion, but he chose to let it be. "I see. And with your, uh, new found relationship with Mr. Martin, he says he told you about what he witnessed outside Anderson's Feed and Seed. That true?"
"Yes, officer."
"How about you tell us what he told you?"
"Well, didn't you just talk to him? I saw him outside when I got here."
Millie Jennings's pretty face was wearing thin on Lt. Parker rather quickly. Annoyed, he nodded. "Yes. And now we're talking to you. What did he tell you?"
"Well," she started simply. "He only just told me last night. He told me he was in the woods hiding behind a tree when he overheard Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker talking about the feed store. He said he overheard plans and conversation and everything. And then he felt bad because he saw Zac and Bessie at the gypsy party soon after and didn't say anything to them about it."
"Is that all?"
She nodded in thought. "Pretty much. He's scared Billy's football gang is gonna off him for knowing. But I convinced him that he had to come to the police. He couldn't carry a burden like that on his shoulders, you know?"
"So what about that night at that, uh, gypsy party you youngsters attended? You drove him there?"
"Of course. I already told the deputies that, it's right there in the report."
"And you were with him all night long?" He clarified. "Just like you said? Because Bessie Harlow said the only time she didn't see him was when it was time to leave the next morning--and she didn't see you, either."
Mille scoffed, stifling a laugh. "Well, we were there all night, Lieutenant, we had to sleep. Of course she didn't see us until the next morning."
"You mean the two of you didn't sleep in the same, uh, quarters? You and Miss Harlow?"
She blinked at him in thought as if her mind had drawn a temporary blank. "I found a patch of grass to rest my head on. I was very tired. Too tired, in fact, to be aware of my surroundings for most of the night."
"I see. So was it at all possible that Joey Martin could have made off in the middle of the night, vandalized the feed store, and snuck back in time to wake up the next morning?"
Suddenly, both Millie's head and her voice dropped. "Officer, I assure you. There was nobody at that camp that night who was in any shape to go anywhere, much less walk ten feet across the ground and actually making it to their destination. Joey Martin did not touch that store. That is the truth. So help me, God."
Lt. Parker stared Millie down for a moment in thought. The truth was, he had a million burning questions, he just wasn't sure he had them for her. So he smiled once again and he stood up, Millie and Waddell following suit. "Okay. I think we've heard enough here. Thank you, Miss Jennings, for your cooperation. Waddell, please see the young lady out the door. And send me Bessie Harlow, if she's here."
**************
Moments later, Bessie Harlow entered the dank room. She looked quaint in her short-sleeved day dress, white gloves, and white cloche hat. She smiled politely and Lt. Parker had opened his mouth to greet her when the human tower appeared behind her that was her father, and Lt. Parker found himself perplexed, but not surprised.
"Judge Harlow, how do you do? To what do we owe this pleasure, Bessie isn't a minor."
Judge Harlow's smile was tight-lipped as he removed his hat. "You called my daughter in for questioning. I'll accompany her if I please."
Young Bessie's cheeks turned a light crimson as she spoke to her father softly over her shoulder. "Daddy. You don't have to be in here. I can answer questions on my own. Besides, there...could be some things said that you might not want to hear..."
"I understand that that's a possibility. I'm willing to keep an open mind this time--"
Lt. Parker interrupted the pair. "Judge Harlow. You know very well that you can't be in here witnessing interrogations like this on a case you're most likely going to judge if it gets to that point."
The judge set his jaw in defiance. "If my daughter ever sits on that stand, you know I won't be judging it, anyway."
"Judge Harlow," Lt. Parker warned.
"Daddy," Bessie replied quietly.
His eyes darted between his daughter and the lieutenant before Judge Harlow's cheeks filled with visible heat and he nodded curtly and left the doorway. The tension immediately leaving the room, Lt. Parker smiled a relieved smile and motioned for Bessie to have a seat in what was becoming the day's hot seat across the table.
As she seated herself, Lt. Parker and Officer Waddell made themselves comfortable across from her. "Now, then. Miss Harlow. How are you? Are you comfortable? Can we get you some water?"
"No, thank you," she replied, still clutching her purse for dear life.
"Shall we get right to it, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"Miss Harlow, what is the nature of your relationship with Joey Martin?"
"Why, he's a very dear friend of mine."
"I see. And what do you know about what he witnessed before the feed store was vandalized?"
Finally, Bessie sighed, her nerves seemingly giving way. And then she let loose. "He told me at the Independence Day picnic. I felt so betrayed that he didn't come out with it sooner. What if Zac knew? What if he could have prevented it, having that prior knowledge? Then maybe Mr. Anderson's store would have never been vandalized and I wouldn't have to be upset at my close friend. Nobody would be having to go to any of this trouble."
Lt. Parker's voice softened. There was something about the young girl, something in her that just wouldn't allow him to bark at her like he did most others that sat in that very same chair. "I understand. But we must get to the bottom of who is responsible. So, if you please. What did Joey Martin tell you?"
Bessie took a slight deep breath. "He told me that a few nights before the gypsy party, he got into a fight with his father, so he went for a walk to get away for awhile. Along the way, he walked up on Billy Connors and Lawrence Baker in front of the feed store. He said they were drinking and smoking and talking about what to do to the store--"
"Drinking what?" He asked curiously.
She shook her head nonchalantly. "He didn't say. Anyway, then he said Billy talked about burning it down and that Lawrence talked about 'the fellas' and that they weren't going to burn it down. And then he said Billy told Lawrence to do whatever he wanted as long as it looked like Zac was guilty. Then they parted ways. When he told me the story, officer, honestly, it sounded like Billy didn't physically do it--he just orchestrated it all."
"That's what I'm gathering," he murmured.
"Joey is scared of them. And I would be, too. But I tried to convince him to go to the police anyway because I put my neck out on the line for him. Right in front of my daddy. And if he forbade me from ever seeing Zac again because of this, I could never forgive Joey. Of course, I didn't outright tell him that, but that's how I feel. Joey should have told to begin with."
"Yes. Yes, he should have--"
And then her jaws went a mile a minute. "He just kept saying he couldn't prove what he witnessed, but it couldn't have hurt him, either. And there are more than enough people who can tell anyone where Joey was at the night that it happened because he very literally sat next to me all night long--"
"Except for the time you didn't see him. Or your cousin, for that matter."
"Well, everyone went to sleep--"
"Tell me, Miss Harlow. How are all these people out in the woods, on a campground, camping more or less, sleeping outside in the grass all together--and neither you or Millie can say you saw each other when it was time to go to sleep or wake up? I'm still not able to wrap my head around that. All three of you say you were at this party or what have you, spending time together all night, but when it comes time to go to sleep, you all seem to lose track of each other all of a sudden. How does that happen?"
Suddenly, Bessie seemed to grow tense again as her eyes darted uncomfortably around the room. "Because...um...I didn't sleep outside..."
"Where did you sleep?"
Her eyes widened with what looked like fear. "Is this going on record?"
"Yes."
She cleared her throat, the red rising to her cheeks once more. "Um. I slept inside the Hansons' travel trailer. With Zac."
Well. Bessie Harlow sure wasn't kidding when she said her father might hear things he didn't want to hear.
Equally as uncomfortable as Bessie now, Lt. Parker cleared his throat and adjusted his seating in his chair. "Well, then. My next line of questioning was going to be on behalf of Zac since he isn't here to answer for himself, but I think that pretty much covers everything I need to know--"
"No, it doesn't," she stated bluntly.
"It doesn't?" He asked, his eyebrows raised.
"At the Independence Day picnic, after Joey told me what he saw, I confronted Billy and his chums. But I didn't tell them where I got the information. I just said I had a source."
"Oh? And what happened there?"
"I told him that I had a real good source that said that his friends are the ones who vandalized the store and that he was the one who told them to do it. Then his friend made fun of my trousers and Billy stuck up for me. Which I found odd. I also told him that his daddy was standing right there in the feed store when I told them why I knew Joey didn't do it. And Billy looked surprised, like he didn't know that. I think Billy still thought everyone thought Joey did it, even though his name was pretty much cleared right there on the spot."
Her last statement made the lieutenant more than curious, a nagging feeling that he didn't think he'd be able to shake anytime soon. "To be clear...you're saying that at the mention of his father's knowledge of what you're currently repeating to me...Billy looked surprised?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I'm not sure that Billy and his father speak very often. From my own personal perspective, that is."
"It appears that way," Lt. Parker murmured in thought. Then he brought himself back to the present long enough to thank Bessie for her time. "Well, then, Miss Harlow. I do believe that's all we needed to hear today. I appreciate your cooperation."
Officer Waddell had escorted Bessie out and come back in far too quick a time, no doubt because Judge Harlow was lurking around the corner, ready to snatch his daughter up. Lt. Parker supposed the judge had reason to be a protective father, what with her being his only daughter and she carrying on a relentless romantic relationship with a poor, vagabond gypsy. Zac Hanson was a good guy, though, despite a bump or two in the road he had suffered a few years back. Lt. Parker didn't know him on a personal level, but he knew enough to know that he and his brothers were good people. He hated not being able to get a statement from him today, though.
Looking up at Waddell as he stepped back into the room, Lt. Parker sat back in his chair. "Well. All three of their stories match."
Officer Waddell sat down beside him and looked him over for a moment before he spoke. "How do we know they didn't get together and plan this? You know, to cover Joey in case this came up?"
Lt. Parker shook his head in objection. "I suspect Millie Jennings was telling the truth. But I damn near guarantee that Bessie Harlow told the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help her God. She could have made up any story, any story at all about why she lost track of Joey and Millie the next morning. She could have covered herself. But she was honest with her risque confession. With her daddy being the judge around here, and her eyewitness account going on record like that, she ran a personal risk. She was definitely telling the truth."
"So. What now?'
"Take five. See if Lawrence Baker is out there. And get Patricia on some coffee and water, will you? I think we've only just begun here."
**************
When Lawrence Baker hulked in the doorway and walked through it, Lt. Parker was nervous for the first time that day. It had nothing to do with Lawrence's indisputable size or his social status--it was because he couldn't read him. Lawrence Baker, with his blue eyes and curly blonde hair, wore an expression that could be mistaken for either dumb or calculating. Or both. The lieutenant just couldn't be sure.
He wore a blue, collared, short-sleeved shirt and tan trousers and, when invited to sit, did so with more grace than Lt. Parker expected. After taking a quick moment to prepare himself, Lt. Parker settled himself in his own chair and looked across the table. "Lawrence Baker. Sports hero. Football star in Tulsa, Oklahoma City..."
Then Lawrence smiled, a smile that was big, oblivious, and proud. Lt. Parker was put at ease immediately. "Yes, sir, that's me."
This could be like taking candy from a baby.
Lt. Parker smiled back at him. "Got a lot of friends, don't you, Lawrence?"
"Yes, sir, I suppose I do."
"Bet you got so many, you couldn't count them all, could you?"
"Of course I can," Lawrence replied confidently.
Leaning across the table, Lt. Parker nodded to his left as he lowered his voice. "Yeah? Officer Waddell, here, says you can't."
Out of the corner of his eye, Lt. Parker could see Waddell's eyes widen and he knew he wanted to object and the lieutenant silently prayed that the young offer would keep his mouth shut.
If he ever did want to speak out, he never got the chance, because Lawrence was right on top of it. "I can so. Why there's Carl Smith, Harold Taylor..."
The list seemed to go on forever, and when he'd reached all ten fingers and started over, Lt. Parker glanced over at Waddell and stifled the smirk as the young officer picked up on what was going on and was writing furiously as Lawrence spoke. Lt. Parker was sure he'd never gotten a list of associates that easily in his entire career.
When Lawrence finally finished, Lt. Parker laughed and sat back in his chair. "My, that is impressive! Why, I think a memory like that deserves some kind of award! Wouldn't you agree, officer?"
Waddell nodded. "Oh, absolutely, of course!"
Lawrence was into it. He smiled and he nodded and he seemed to be getting obliviously excited. "Yeah? What kind of award?"
And then Lt. Parker stood up and laid down the gauntlet, slamming his hand down on the table under Lawrence's nose. "Immunity if you give us Billy Connors."
Lawrence's eyes widened, as he was caught completely off guard. "Excuse me? If I do what?"
"Just what I said. Billy Connors. Look, let's just cut to the chase here, Larry, okay? We know you and your chums wrecked the feed store. Okay? The entire department knows it."
The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about--"
Lt. Parker smiled, his voice softening into reason. "Billy's a charismatic guy, handsome, popular with the ladies...and his old man's the district attorney. I can understand why you'd want to go along with everything he says. You wouldn't want to get on his bad side where his daddy could bend any facts to his liking any way he sees fit. Right? So you do anything he tells you. You beat on innocent men, vandalize innocent feed stores...and for what? 'Cause you're scared of him? You're scared of his daddy--?"
"I ain't scared of nobody!" Lawrence cried out. "Billy's my very best pal, I wouldn't do anything to hurt that, including rat him out!"
"Rat him out, hmm? You say that like he may have done something worth ratting on."
"I didn't say anything like that."
Lt. Parker seated himself once more, lacing his fingers together on the table, and looking across at Lawrence. It wouldn't take much more to break him. Not much at all... "It must be difficult for you to be the right-hand man to someone like that, Larry. He's practically Tulsa's golden child. Getting everything he wants, racking up all the awards and trophies and recognition...just because he is who he is. But you're the real football star, Larry. We all know you are. We've been to the games, seen you in action. You're far more talented than Billy ever was. But, yet...you continue to lurk in the shadows while Billy soaks up all the undeserved glory. Has he ever acknowledged you for it? Has he ever stepped up and accepted anything on your behalf because you were more deserving? No. Not ever. What kind of a friendship is that? A give-and-take? You're giving and he's taking?"
Lawrence was silent. His eyes darted around the room in thought. This was it. Lt. Baker had him right where he wanted him.
"You know what I see, Larry? I see him giving you a lot of instruction and you taking it. I bet you wouldn't have beat up on Zac Hanson without your arm getting twisted and I know for a fact that you didn't want anything to do with that feed store, but he wanted you to do his bidding anyway, didn't he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lawrence muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Say, why doesn't Billy do his own dirty work? Why does he have you and the rest of his flunkies do it for him--?"
"We're not his flunkies!" Lawrence exploded in a sudden outburst.
Lt. Parker continued to keep his cool. "Sure, you are. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you count on one hand how many times Billy Connors has ever given a shit about what's going on with you? Huh? Can you?"
Lawrence narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as if to study Lt. Parker. Suddenly, the simple, blank expression had left his face and was replaced with one more alert and calculating. "Are you sitting here trying to say that my friends and I wrecked that feed store and Billy told us to do it?"
"Bingo," Lt. Parker smiled with satisfaction as he sat back in his chair.
"Well, you're wrong. Warn't nobody anywhere near any kind of feed store after dark at any time--"
Raising his eyebrows with surprise, the lieutenant replied, "Who says it was done after dark? Who says it wasn't done right after Zac Hanson locked up that day while it was still daylight?"
The discomfort returned to the football star's face as his eyes darted around the room once more. "Well...they're all saying it was like that."
"They who?"
Lawrence was growing agitated and it delighted Lt. Parker to no end. The boy adjusted in his chair and scowled at the lieutenant. "I don't know, everyone. All of Tulsa, people talking, you know!"
"What I do know is that it's funny that you mentioned after dark, seeing as there was an eyewitness that puts you in front of Anderson's Feed and Seed with Billy Connors a few nights before the vandalism, talking about what you guys were going to do to that place and how to make it look like it was an inside job."
"Who?"
"Are you admitting you were there?"
"No. Because that never happened. But I wanna know who's going around spreading lies about me."
"The tipper chose to remain anonymous. But they say that they hid behind a tree where they couldn't be seen and overheard the entire exchange. Someone saw you with their own two eyes and heard you with their own two ears about your entire plan to wreck the store. The jig is up. Now tell me about Billy Connors."
At that, Lawrence sat back in his chair and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "I'm not telling you about anything. Because you got lied to. Everything that you got told never happened. And I ain't answering no more questions, either. I'm done."
"That so?" Lt. Parker scoffed, amused.
"Yeah. I ain't done nothing, I ain't talked about nothing, and I don't know nothing. That's so."
"Well," Lt. Parker breathed in mock defeat as he rested his palms on the table and rose from his chair. "You're a grown man, I suppose. Can't hold you here. But I can tell you that this ain't over. Not by a long shot. I think you and I are going to become very good friends, Mr. Baker."
Glaring at the lieutenant, Lawrence Baker rose from his chair, nearly knocking it over, and let himself out of the room in a huff. Officer Waddell didn't seem to be in a hurry to escort the young brute out the door, anyway, and that was okay with Lt. Parker. Despite not getting what he wanted out of the boy, he thought the interrogation went rather well. After all, it was true what they said about actions speaking louder than words.
Apparently, Officer Waddell felt the same. "Well, then. That was interesting. Don't you think?"
"Guilty as sin, that one," Lt. Parker replied.
"We shoulda gotten a confession out of him. I think we coulda done it, we coulda broke him."
Lt. Parker shook his head. "If I want a confession out of anybody, it's Billy Connors. I'm not so much worried about a confession from Lawrence Baker. If this case ever makes it to trial, that kid will sing like a bird, I just know it." Then he paused and sighed, anticipating what was coming next. "Look out the door and see if Billy Connors has made it. If he has, send him in."
Officer Waddell stood from his chair and peeked around the doorway, swallowing audibly. Raising his eyebrows, he exclaimed, "Oh, he's here, all right. And he's got the district attorney in tow."
"Fantastic," Lt. Parker breathed sarcastically.
_______________________________
When Billy Connors walked into the police station with his father at his side, he already knew what he was there for. It wasn't difficult to deduce. What was curious, though, was the presence of Judge Harlow and Millie Jennings. Had Millie done something? Been accused of something? Had she finally slipped up and gotten caught drinking? Billy had to smirk to himself. Some people just weren't that smart, were they?
His father approached the judge and the pair of them spoke in murmurs very briefly before his father returned in a huff to his side, taking a seat in the chair beside him. Neither father or son spoke to one another. The walls had ears and they weren't willing to test them out.
Footsteps that clicked lightly down a small corridor ahead of them caused Billy to look up and his eyes widened as he spied Bessie Harlow joining her father and her cousin as they quietly interacted with two other officers. He didn't have time to pay attention to how pretty she looked as much as he felt the sting of the betrayal. It was no secret at all that Billy was not Bessie's favorite person, but he sure didn't think she would be the type to rat someone out based purely on hearsay. It just wasn't like her.
When he heard Lawrence Baker's name get called out by an officer standing at the end of the corridor, Billy's head whipped around this way and that. He hadn't seen Lawrence when he walked in. What was he doing here? Of course. Billy and Lawrence were the only names Bessie had, no wonder the rest of the fellas weren't present. Billy fumed and he steamed and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks as his eyes cut daggers at the judge's pretty, young daughter. If this was what she wanted, so be it. For the rest of this summer he would be on her like white on rice and the very first time he witnessed her doing something illegal or immoral he would sing it from the rooftops. No way would she rat Billy Connors out and get by with it.
When it was finally Billy's turn to enter the interrogation room, he was fit to be tied. Nobody was going to shake anything out of him, not even the most talented, seasoned officer. It just wasn't going to happen. Bessie Harlow would come out of this looking like the fool, not Billy. Still, though. He wished he'd had an opportunity to speak with Lawrence before going in.
"Hello, Billy," Lt. Parker greeted him as he walked in the door. "District Attorney. Had a feeling you might be here today."
Billy was familiar with Lt. Don Parker from this past New Year's Eve party at the governor's mansion. He seemed like a likable person. A little uptight, but still likable. Billy couldn't decide how he was supposed to feel in his current situation.
"Of course I'm here, what did you expect?" His father replied boisterously.
"I had hoped that as a grown adult man, that Billy, here, would be allowed to do this on his own," Lt. Parker stated simply.
"Whatever it is that he is 'doing,' I am his attorney. So he does or says nothing without my say so."
Suddenly, Billy had had enough of his father. Lt. Parker was right, Billy was a grown man. He didn't need anybody to hold his hand through this. He was no stranger to the workings of the law and he certainly didn't need his old man to treat him like he was. "Yeah?" He spat at his father. "As my 'attorney,' isn't it your job to always be forthcoming with necessary information?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" His father asked him.
Billy glared directly at his father. "How about the fact that Joey Martin got his name cleared in front of your face and you walked around and let me believe different?"
Lt. Parker's entire face seemed to perk up at this statement, but Billy chose to ignore it.
Meanwhile, his father was growing anxious--something he seemed to do best lately. "That's it. You keep your mouth shut, you're not required to say anything else--"
"Bessie Harlow told me, you know," Billy shot back at him. "She walked up to me at the Independence Day picnic and accused me of having something to do with trashing that store. And when I brought up Joey Martin, she said it was already determined that he didn't do it and that you knew about it! What the hell kind of attorney are you, anyway?"
Lt. Parker didn't resist butting in. "Are you saying that you feel that you're in need of an attorney, Billy?"
"Don't answer that," his father said hastily.
Instead, Billy raised his chin in defiance. "Well, I don't know. When I got people walking around all over town accusing me of nonsense and a so-called attorney that can't be honest with me, I'm kinda torn on the subject, if I may be frank about it."
"Well, Billy," Lt. Parker began. "I gotta ask you a few questions today. And I need to know whether I'm asking you or whether I'm asking your attorney. We don't have much time to dilly dally, here, it's been a long day already. Whatever the two of you have going on at home is your business. But right now, this interrogation room is my house and we need to keep our business on the subject at hand."
"Is that what this is?" Billy asked, finally acknowledging the lieutenant. "Am I being interrogated?"
"That depends on you and your level of cooperation. You could either answer the few questions I have for you or I could interrogate you. Your choice."
"His attorney will be present," Billy's father cut in.
Lt. Parker arched an eyebrow and Billy swore he saw a hint of amusement in his eye. "All right, then. When will he be here?"
"Excuse me?"
"I am an officer of the law, District Attorney. Even I know that it's out of your jurisdiction to be a personal defender of any individual, family or not. You represent the county. Not the individual. Now I'll ask again. When will his attorney be here?"
Billy's father could only stare blankly at the lieutenant.
Meanwhile, Billy was humiliated and outraged, whipping his entire body around to face his father. "You mean I don't have an attorney?!"
"How in the hell do you grow up in my house and study law in school and not know what I do, son?" His father sneered at him.
"How in the hell do you allow me to grow up believing the things I believe?"
"I've had enough of this," Lt. Parker cut in sternly. "District Attorney, if you'll be so kind as to see yourself out so that we may get on with this--"
The heat rose to Billy's father's face so fast, he thought the old man might have a heart attack based on the shade of red that now covered every inch of his skin above his shoulders. "I'll have you know, just so we're clear, that whatever game you're playing here, Lieutenant, you're wasting your time. Because I will not allow it to go to trial. Not ever. You understand that?"
Lt. Parker's expression remained stone cold. "Are you through? I'm getting impatient."
*************
Minutes later, Billy was sitting in a chair in the dank, brick interrogation room, nearly blinded by the light bulb that hung overhead, and staring across the table at Lt. Parker and Officer Waddell, an officer Billy didn't recognize. To help shield his eyes, the tall football star hunkered down in his chair and made himself comfortable.
"Looks like it's just you and me," Lt. Parker began. "And Officer Waddell, here."
"Clearly," Billy muttered.
"I take that little exchange that just happened to mean that there's not a lot communication taking place in your household."
"Let's just say that growing up means learning new things."
"Sounds like you're learning a lot of new things. Like the way Joey Martin isn't responsible for the vandalism at the feed store."
Billy narrowed his eyes and nodded at the lieutenant. "Let's just cut to the chase. I know how this works. You ask me questions, you bully the answers out of me. I break down into tears with a harrowing, yet unsurprising confession, and you come out the town hero. You and I both know that garnering a confession out of me has nothing to do with finding justice for old Burt Anderson. It has everything to do with politics."
"Something you think you ought to confess? You know, since I'm apparently here to get one out of you?"
"Why else would I be here?"
"Very well, then," the lieutenant nodded solemnly. "I'm giving you one last chance at your right to an attorney--a suitable attorney--before this questioning gets started."
"I'm waiving my right, I don't need a damned attorney 'cause I haven't done anything," Billy spat.
"Well, that, I can honestly agree with."
"Then we're finished here."
"No, that's exactly why we're here."
"I'm not following," Billy replied, eying the man suspiciously.
Lt. Parker blinked across the table matter-of-factly. "The first thing I'll tell you is we have names. A whole list of them, with Lawrence Baker at the top of it. You know, since he was so gracious to provide the list to us to begin with. Only seemed fitting to give him top billing. Wouldn't you agree?"
"A list of names for what?"
"Why, a list of the names who vandalized Anderson's Feed and Seed, of course."
"That's impossible. You're lying."
Lt. Parker turned his head toward his bumbling cohort. "Officer. If you will."
Officer Waddell slid a sheet of paper rapidly over the table at Billy and Billy snatched it from under his fingertips. Glancing quickly down the list, his heart sank but he fought not to show it on his face. Every name. Every single one of them.
Lawrence...
Billy's jaw tightened as Lt. Parker's voice broke the silence. "You see whose name's not on that list?"
Billy scoffed. "Yeah. Mine."
"Exactly. Your name's not on the list because you didn't do it."
"You're damn right I didn't do it. Are we done now? I have things to do."
"You didn't do it. But you orchestrated the entire thing. You found out that Burt Anderson was out of town and you seized it as a perfect opportunity to get at Zac Hanson."
Billy couldn't help himself. He shook his head and he laughed. "Orchestrated? Jeez, lieutenant, you're making me out to look like some kind of mob boss or something. How in the hell is trashing the feed store going to get me any kind of satisfaction of a retaliation against that gypsy? I'd love to hear it."
"You'd do anything to make his life hell, I bet it doesn't even matter what it is," Lt. Parker deduced knowingly. "You're the only person in this town who has a personal vendetta against him, everybody knows it. Of course all fingers point to you. They always will. But you know what makes this situation a little more different than pointing fingers? Witnesses."
"Witnesses? You've lost your damn mind."
"Have I?"
"Yes. Either you're making up your witnesses or they're all crazy as hell, because there wasn't anything to witness. Because I didn't orchestrate anything and Larry and the boys didn't trash no store. End of discussion."
Lt. Parker tapped his fingers in thought on the table for the moment before sitting back in his chair and studying Billy with an expression that made the young man slightly uncomfortable. "So...you're telling me that several nights before the vandalism, you and Lawrence Baker weren't outside the feed store, smoking and drinking and plotting revenge against Zac Hanson, using the store as a pawn. You're telling me that you didn't order Lawrence to burn it down and when he objected, told him to do whatever he wanted as long as it looked like Zac Hanson did it. Is that what I'm to understand?"
"Precisely."
"Anonymous eyewitness begs to differ."
"Oh, come on! You can't pull that shit on me, do you know who I am? There is absolutely no eyewitness to anything, you just want a confession so you can wrap this case up! That's all this is about. Nobody cares who really did it, just so long as someone fesses up to it. You think I don't know this game? You're barking up the wrong tree, old man!"
"Awful hostile for an innocent man, aren't we?"
"You call this hostile? Why don't you trade chairs with me and let me accuse you of heading up an organized crime. Come on. Even you know this is bullshit."
"Then tell me about Bessie Harlow."
Billy was caught off guard momentarily and he immediately noticed the change in his heartbeat as it started to slow. What was it about the thought of her lately that seemed to calm him? He didn't like it. And he certainly didn't welcome it. "What about her?" He murmured.
"If you're so adamant that we're crazy and we're making this up, why did she feel the need to confront you at the Independence Day picnic with the same story that we just heard today?"
"You pretty much just answered yourself, did you hear it? They had time to plan this whole thing, they had time to come in here and blame it on me after Bessie got an earful of the lies she came to me with. Yeah. So it's no secret that I hate her boyfriend. Okay? So what? He's too old for her, he's too poor for her, and he's a loose cannon--"
Lt. Parker narrowed his blue eyes across the table and a hint of a smirk crossed his lips. "You sweet on Bessie Harlow, Billy?"
Billy glared across the table at the lieutenant's smug expression. "Not the point. Anyway, of course they're going to try to pin something on me. And she's gonna do and believe every word of it to keep her beau's name clear. Whoever's filling her head with that garbage knows just how to wrap her, because she's gullible. She's young, she's impressionable, she's naive, and she's gullible. And she's believing the very same bullshit lies that you're believing and, to be quite honest, I'm tired of being the brunt of all of this. That gypsy and I got into a scuffle once. And I got my ass handed to me. You think I want to put myself in that kind of situation again? Look where it got me."
"Exactly the point. You don't want to get into that kind of situation again, so you send your friends out to do the dirty work for you. They do the crime, they do the time, and you stand off in the shadows and watch it all go down. You're a coward, Billy Connors. Plain and simple."
"I am not a coward!" Billy was hot. How dare he call him a coward? Billy Connors spent his spare time barreling into hulking men, taking the licks and rolling with the punches. Cowards didn't put themselves through that. No. Cowards lurked in the shadows and eavesdropped on conversations and narked to the cops. By now he knew the rat wasn't Bessie Harlow, but a male. A male coward.
"And you're scared shitless of Zac Hanson," Lt. Parker pleasantly sneered.
"I am not scared of a low-down, dirty gypsy--!"
"He's taking everything away from you. Your girl--"
Billy scoffed loudly and shook his head. "He never had my girl."
"Oh? Your initial conflict with him wasn't over Bessie Harlow? You didn't just take her out to lunch the very moment the Hansons left town?"
"What?"
"My son was at the diner that day. Zac Hanson is becoming Tulsa's golden boy, though, fast and steady. Taking it right out from under you. And he didn't need football to do it."
"No. He just needed to wrap the right people around his dirty gypsy fingers." The phrase came out in a near pout, but Billy didn't care anymore. There was nothing he hated more on this earth than Zac Hanson and having him be the subject of discussion right now was not helping his already-sour mood. He almost rathered to confess to the crime and get it over with but he wouldn't dare give Zac Hanson the satisfaction.
"Seems like all of Tulsa likes the guy," Lt. Parker continued. "Not that they ever didn't like him. But all the buzz is about him now. He's likeable, he's trustworthy, he's generous and considerate--"
"Oh, please. Zac Hanson is a barbarian. A savage. He's wild. He has no college education, no job, no future, no shame, he's short-tempered and violent, he's a drinker, a smoker, a thief, and an all-round menace. He is absolutely the worst influence on poor Bessie Harlow that there can be and yet he's managed to dupe her and her father into thinking he's some kind of saint! What he really is, is a con artist. I mean, look at what he does. He gets paid to be a con artist. Think about it. The guy's a complete phony. And I say good riddance to him and his brothers. Tulsa has been much better off since he's been gone."
"You mean you've been better off since he's been gone. Why, since he's been gone there's no trouble for you to get into, nobody to take any attention away from you and Miss Harlow, well...she's just ripe for the taking, isn't she? With absolutely nobody standing in your way."
Something about this conversation was beginning to make Billy uncomfortable and he squirmed around in his chair as a result. "Why in the hell are we talking about Bessie Harlow all of a sudden?"
"Because every damn time you get involved in something, she seems to be right in the middle of it. Am I the only one who sees that, here?"
"Only by default. Because she's unnaturally gaga for the guy. If he wasn't dating her, she wouldn't be in the center of anything."
"If he wasn't dating her, none of this would have ever even gotten started. Am I correct?"
Billy shrugged. "Technically. I suppose."
"So. You hate Zac Hanson so much that you were willing to desecrate a beloved Tulsa establishment just to get your point across."
"No."
Lt. Parker leaned forward over the table, his eyes intensely glaring into Billy's, his fingers laced together in front of him. "Let's just stop lying here, Billy. I already have the eyewitness. I already have the names. I already know you were the mastermind behind it."
"I think I reserve the right to know who this 'eyewitness' is. And you can't say it has nothing to do with Bessie Harlow because I saw her as I was walking in here. Is it her so-called source? Is that who it is?"
"Anonymous is anonymous."
"Anonymous is bullshit and it's code for you've got nothing and you're trying to pin some shit on me that isn't true. And I'm not going to sit here and be harassed like this any longer. So, either you've got something real and tangible or you're wasting my time."
"Are you admitting you know something about the vandalism, then?"
"No. I don't know anything about anything."
"Well," Lt. Parker replied, letting out a breath, appearing to concede. "All right, then."
"All right, then? What, that's it? No shakedown, no good cop bad cop routine, nothing?"
"Is that what you wanted?"
"Would have been a lot more worth my time."
"Look, Billy. The truth is, we all know you're responsible for this. I know you are, you know you are. But to be honest, all we got is one guy who overheard a conversation in the dark. Nobody actually witnessed the vandalism. So we have no tangible evidence to convict with. But you mark my words, and you can pass this message along to all your little football buddies, that we have our eyes on you. Every last one of you, none of you will even be able to take a shit without us knowing about it. Do you understand?"
Billy sat back with a smug smile of triumph on his face. "Now are you finished?"
Lt. Parker sighed with defeat. "You're free to go."
"Thank God," Billy replied. It took him no time to be out of the chair and out of that stuffy room. He didn't dare look in either of the officer's directions as he left.
**************
Once outside the station, Billy dug a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and wasted no time lighting one up as he observed his surroundings in the hot July sun. His father was nowhere to be found, but Lawrence Baker suddenly seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
"Well? What happened?"
Preparing to answer, Billy opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, choosing to take another drag of his cigarette as he stared off at the sidewalk behind Lawrence. The street in front of the station was nicely landscaped with freshly cut grass, tall bushes on the side they stood on, and thin, strategically-placed trees on the other side of the sidewalk. Down the sidewalk, Bessie Harlow took small, calculated steps in the opposite direction.
Glancing behind him, Lawrence had followed Billy's gaze and then turned back to him, screwing his face up with displeasure. "You know, your little plan to 'woo' Bessie Harlow isn't working out so well for us."
"Yeah, I'm aware."
"It sure as hell isn't keeping her mouth shut. She was coming out of the interrogation room when they called me in. Something had to have happened to make her want to rat us out all of a sudden."
"It wasn't her," Billy corrected him quickly.
"What?"
"It wasn't her. Remember her 'source?' Turns out, they put in an anonymous tip."
"She is the 'source,'" Lawrence argued. "Can't you see that? It's all a big conspiracy theory to get one of us to fess up!"
Billy shook his head as he took another calm drag of his cigarette. "No. Bessie is a lot of things--naive, innocent, inexperienced, stubborn-headed...but she's not deceitful. She wouldn't go pointing fingers without being provoked." Pausing to look in the direction Bessie had walked in once more, his eyes widened at the new scene that had developed. Joey Martin had come out of nowhere and joined her on the sidewalk and now the pair walked close together, obviously in deep conversation. It made sense. Perfect sense, why hadn't he suspected it before? "Shit..."
"What?" Lawrence asked.
"Anonymous is none other than that Joey Martin queer. God damn it, he was there that night. Right in earshot, heard it all. I should have known from the beginning!"
"Joey Martin? Are you sure? How did we not know he was there?"
"I don't know. But what I do know is that Anonymous isn't so anonymous anymore. And I'll be damned if he does anymore flapping of those gums."
"How can you be for sure it was Joey?"
"Call it a hunch."
"William," Billy's father's voice suddenly rang out from behind them.
Rolling his eyes, Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his toe. "Shit," he hissed under his breath.
He was met with a firm hand on the back of his neck. "You and I better start home, son. It seems we have a few things we need to get off our chests, huh?"
"Sure," Billy muttered. "Why not."
After saying a nonchalant goodbye to Lawrence, Billy headed with his father to their car. This day just kept getting better and better, didn't it? Suddenly, he couldn't wait until tonight when his parents went to bed and he could swipe the key to his father's secret liquor cabinet.