“Never mind,” Rainy said with a dismissive wave.
Two people approached Rainy and Tanner from the right. One was an older man, tall and handsome, the way an ex-athlete might look years after the glory days. The other was a boy near to Tanner’s age. They looked too much alike for them not to be father and son.
“What’s going on?” asked the man.
“Hey, Mitchell, Mr. Boyd,” Tanner said. “This is an agent from the FBI. She’s asking me about Lindsey.”
The older Boyd’s unflinching expression would have befit a statue. The younger one’s appearance was much edgier than Tanner’s: short hair with gelled spikes, a silver cross earring in his right ear.
“What’s up with Lindsey?” Mitchell asked. The boy’s expression darkened the way threatening clouds dim a sunny day.
“This is a private matter between myself and Tanner. It doesn’t concern anybody else.”
“Well, did he tell you what you wanted to know?” The older Boyd placed a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “Tanner’s like family to us. If he’s in any trouble, I’d like to know.”
“Tanner’s a big boy,” Rainy said. “He knows what trouble he’s in.”
Roland stayed quiet for a long second. The kids circled around them again. Anyone watching from a distance would have expected to hear shouts of “Fight! Fight!” coming from the circle’s perimeter.
Roland unexpectedly extended his hand. “Forgive my manners,” he said. “My name is Roland Boyd. This is my son Mitchell.”
Rainy shook Roland’s hand. His grip was strong; the handshake professional.
“Well, if there is anything we can do to help with your efforts, you just let us know.”
“I sure will,” Rainy answered.
Something about the conversation struck Rainy as peculiar. Tanner didn’t come across as someone with a great deal of respect for Coach Hawkins. He sure as heck didn’t sound like an underling talking about the boss who allegedly paid him good money for naked pictures of Lindsey Wells.
Chapter 44
For several tense moments, nothing was said. Rainy had to get her audio recording equipment running. This session would be taped. She got approval from the front office to record it because the AUSA assigned to the James Mann case wasn’t available to hear it first hand. Marvin had to agree to let Rainy record the session before she even considered the drive north. In exchange, Marvin promised no legal maneuverings that might delay the federal deposition of Tom Hawkins in connection to their case against James Mann.
“We both have something to gain,” Marvin had told Tom when explaining why Agent Miles was willing to participate in the discussion.
“Just a reminder that we’re on the record here,” Rainy said after she positioned the microphone closest to Tom. The digital recorder’s red light blinked in front of Tom in a threatening way.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Tom said.
“You understand that everything you say here could be admissible in a court of law?”
“Understood,” Tom and Marvin answered together.
Rainy nodded subtly. “What is it you’re looking for from the FBI?” she asked Marvin. She rolled the sleeves of her jacket up to her elbows. Tom noticed that she wasn’t wearing any rings.
“You suspect my client has somehow supplied material to a person or persons being brought up on federal child pornography charges.”
“I’m not here to discuss my caseload,” Rainy said. Tom saw the patience and interest drain from her eyes. “You said you had information for me,” she reminded Marvin.
“Have you done a time line of the two cases?” Marvin asked her.
“Not sure what you’re getting at.”
“I’ve reviewed a lot of the D.A.’s discovery materials,” continued Marvin. “Forty girls, ten from Shilo. Tom personally knows some of those girls, but not all of them. How did he get these girls to give him their pictures?”
“No evidence exists to prove that he couldn’t have procured the images in question,” Rainy said. “There is plenty of evidence to suggest that your client is in violation of numerous federal laws specific to child pornography material. Now, if your client is interested in working with the federal government, perhaps we can help to broker a deal with the state.”
“Deal?” Tom said.
Rainy ignored Tom, directing her attack toward Marvin. “You know we haven’t ruled out federal charges against your client, either—”
“But isn’t that double jeopardy?” Tom interrupted. “You can’t be tried for the same crime twice. Can you?”
“Double jeopardy has a separate sovereigns exception,” Marvin explained. “In the American federal system, states and the federal government are considered separate sovereign powers.”
“At this time,” Rainy continued, “the quantity and nature of material found in your client’s possession haven’t generated enough federal interest to pursue the matter independent of the state’s case against Mr. Hawkins. But that could change—quickly, too. Like the direction of the wind.”
Marvin smiled at Rainy, who was seated directly across from him. Tom disliked the feeling that he wasn’t even a presence in the room, but he was even more curious about where Marvin was taking this conversation. Instead of objecting, he remained a silent observer.
“I’m not here to get my client into any trouble with the federal government,” Marvin said. “You’re free to depose him for your case. I already promised you no legal tap dancing there. But when you do depose him, he’ll tell you what he’s been telling me from the get-go.”
“Which is?”
“That he’s being framed for something he didn’t do,” Marvin said.
“What are you asking me to do here?” asked Rainy.
“All I’m asking is that you look at this case through different eyes.”
“Such as?”
“For starters, don’t you think it’s a little too convenient that you bust James Mann, and a few days after you come to Shilo, you bust his supplier? I would think that would give a seasoned investigator such as yourself a moment’s pause.”
“Is that what you think?” Rainy said.
“Do you know what the longest hitting streak is in baseball, Agent Miles?”
“Joe DiMaggio,” Rainy said without hesitating. “Fifty-six games.” She looked at both men, who seemed genuinely surprised by the quickness of her answer. “My mom got me into baseball,” she explained.
“Well, the probability of that streak happening again has been mathematically proven. Guess how many years, statistically speaking, it will take before a streak like that happens again?”
“Fifty?” Rainy said.
“Try five hundred,” Marvin replied.
“And your point is?”
“The probability of your coming to a small town like Shilo to make an ID of a girl and days later uncovering the supplier is more remote than that streak being broken in our lifetimes. That’s what I think.”
Rainy shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see how baseball and the case against Mr. Hawkins—”
“Tom, please,” Tom interrupted. He wanted Rainy to use his first name so she’d be more inclined to view him as a person, not just a case. Rainy, in response, flashed Tom a look as if to say he’d always be Mr. Hawkins to her.
“I don’t see how baseball and the case are related,” Rainy finished.
“I’ve done some digging of my own into James Mann,” Marvin said. “The guy was about to become president of a major pharmaceutical company. Seems as unlikely a person to be procuring these images as my client is to be
