me, tell me what you find.”
He made several clicks and a document appeared.
The boy read and after a few seconds said, “It’s a PDF, a contract between Mr. Wilcox and dad and it says…hold on, uh, the gist of it is that he said dad was to, uh, conduct surveillance and advise of any, here we go, ‘felonious activities, illegal, unethical, immoral, or misdemeanor acts’…no exceptions or, looks like he repeated a word? Zemp-shuns?”
“Spell it…”
“E-x-e-m-p-t-i-o-n-s…Zemptions.”
“Exemptions, okay. Please don’t play dumb. We don’t’ have time. What else? What’s the date of the contract?”
“March eleven.”
“March?”
“Twenty-twelve.”
A year, over a year. Long before her parents and the senator would be assassinated, long before her godparents would succumb to cancer and suicide, long before Wilcox kissed her, whispering of trust.
He continued tapping keys.
“Looks like dad’s been doing everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s got jpegs and other stuff in here. Some of these things look like – I mean, I think they’re voice recordings. I know he did that. Like with these things,” and he motioned to the equipment cabinet.
She debated downloading everything on a USB, but thought of time; the day was becoming rapidly darker as snow fell and clouds grew thicker.
“I’m going to need the computer.”
“All yours,” he said, and stood away from the desk.
“No, I meant, I’m taking it.”
He rolled forward and flipped the laptop closed.
“Take anything you want,” he said defiantly. “Take all this shit. You’re going to jail anyway, right?”
“Probably.”
“What’s next,” he said, flexing now, confident he was gaining the upper hand. “Tie me up with curtains and stuff a gag in my mouth?”
“No,” she said.
She’d already thought that out.
She tossed him the key to the green Ford Taurus.
“You’re coming with me.”
He looked at the key, which had landed on the desk and looked to her, confused, expectant.
“You’re kidnapping me and I’m driving?”
“No, we’re taking separate cars. You’re taking your father’s car and I’m in the cruiser. You’re going to lead. I’m going to tap the horn, flash lights, then signal, and you’ll follow the direction of the signal.”
She guessed what he was thinking.
“And if you abandon me, make a run for it, you’ll lose me and I’ll lose you. But you’ll burn up time.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll take you to your father.”
The boy remained defiant.
“I’ll wait for him, thanks. And for mom. She’ll be here any second and maybe you can take her instead. And maybe she’ll bring Wilcox .”
He said Wilcox the way someone might say asshole .
Like Ruggles, Sebastian, he did not have to die.
“You have to come with me. You can’t stay here. I can’t guarantee your safety if you stay.”
She was dancing around it, trying to scare him.
It didn’t work.
“Nice try.”
Sam, staring at him, spoke forcefully.
“Your father is dead.”
The boy’s mouth clamped tight.
“I will take you to him.”
She put her gun in her pocket and went to him, close enough for to her to detect a trace of sweat at the top of his hairline.
She picked up the laptop.
“Or you can stay. It’s up to you.”
He was solemn.
“How do you know?”
“Wilcox murdered him in my house. I put him where he would be safe, to where no one could harm him or me or anyone else.”
“Who does something like that?”
“Murder?”
“Who moves a body to save it?”
“You have to understand – I needed time. If I had left him, I’d probably be hanging from a pipe in the Foursquare holding tank, another coroner ruled suicide.”
“I’m supposed to believe that.”
“Why would I come to your house in a stolen cruiser and say all this, do all this?”
“Because you’re out of your mind.”
“Then as I leave you can shoot me and claim self-defense, home-invasion, that
He made several clicks and a document appeared.
The boy read and after a few seconds said, “It’s a PDF, a contract between Mr. Wilcox and dad and it says…hold on, uh, the gist of it is that he said dad was to, uh, conduct surveillance and advise of any, here we go, ‘felonious activities, illegal, unethical, immoral, or misdemeanor acts’…no exceptions or, looks like he repeated a word? Zemp-shuns?”
“Spell it…”
“E-x-e-m-p-t-i-o-n-s…Zemptions.”
“Exemptions, okay. Please don’t play dumb. We don’t’ have time. What else? What’s the date of the contract?”
“March eleven.”
“March?”
“Twenty-twelve.”
A year, over a year. Long before her parents and the senator would be assassinated, long before her godparents would succumb to cancer and suicide, long before Wilcox kissed her, whispering of trust.
He continued tapping keys.
“Looks like dad’s been doing everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s got jpegs and other stuff in here. Some of these things look like – I mean, I think they’re voice recordings. I know he did that. Like with these things,” and he motioned to the equipment cabinet.
She debated downloading everything on a USB, but thought of time; the day was becoming rapidly darker as snow fell and clouds grew thicker.
“I’m going to need the computer.”
“All yours,” he said, and stood away from the desk.
“No, I meant, I’m taking it.”
He rolled forward and flipped the laptop closed.
“Take anything you want,” he said defiantly. “Take all this shit. You’re going to jail anyway, right?”
“Probably.”
“What’s next,” he said, flexing now, confident he was gaining the upper hand. “Tie me up with curtains and stuff a gag in my mouth?”
“No,” she said.
She’d already thought that out.
She tossed him the key to the green Ford Taurus.
“You’re coming with me.”
He looked at the key, which had landed on the desk and looked to her, confused, expectant.
“You’re kidnapping me and I’m driving?”
“No, we’re taking separate cars. You’re taking your father’s car and I’m in the cruiser. You’re going to lead. I’m going to tap the horn, flash lights, then signal, and you’ll follow the direction of the signal.”
She guessed what he was thinking.
“And if you abandon me, make a run for it, you’ll lose me and I’ll lose you. But you’ll burn up time.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll take you to your father.”
The boy remained defiant.
“I’ll wait for him, thanks. And for mom. She’ll be here any second and maybe you can take her instead. And maybe she’ll bring Wilcox .”
He said Wilcox the way someone might say asshole .
Like Ruggles, Sebastian, he did not have to die.
“You have to come with me. You can’t stay here. I can’t guarantee your safety if you stay.”
She was dancing around it, trying to scare him.
It didn’t work.
“Nice try.”
Sam, staring at him, spoke forcefully.
“Your father is dead.”
The boy’s mouth clamped tight.
“I will take you to him.”
She put her gun in her pocket and went to him, close enough for to her to detect a trace of sweat at the top of his hairline.
She picked up the laptop.
“Or you can stay. It’s up to you.”
He was solemn.
“How do you know?”
“Wilcox murdered him in my house. I put him where he would be safe, to where no one could harm him or me or anyone else.”
“Who does something like that?”
“Murder?”
“Who moves a body to save it?”
“You have to understand – I needed time. If I had left him, I’d probably be hanging from a pipe in the Foursquare holding tank, another coroner ruled suicide.”
“I’m supposed to believe that.”
“Why would I come to your house in a stolen cruiser and say all this, do all this?”
“Because you’re out of your mind.”
“Then as I leave you can shoot me and claim self-defense, home-invasion, that
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