The air changed as he broke onto the trail. The ride was smooth as silk. Branches whipped past his head on either side, welcoming him home. The creek was two minutes away. He hadn’t learned as much about survival in the wild as his uncle would have liked, but he knew how to find food and make shelter. It would suffice until he and God could come up with another plan.
He cheered and laughed as the ravine came into view. As the landscape changed, and the trail dipped down between two grassy, rocky, muddy, chest-high ledges, Philip looked over his shoulder for a split second to see if anyone was stupid enough to try and follow him. No one was.
Good bye.
With a satisfied grin, he faced forward just in time to feel the air leave his lungs and see his bike disappear into the distance without him.
His next sensation was blurred vision coming into focus. He was on his back looking up at the sky. He’d taken something like a cannon ball to the chest. The backward fall left him stunned.
When the world stopped spinning enough for him to understand his surroundings, Detective Lynch, Detective Gomez, and Special Agent Beck came into view. Gomez and Beck had weapons drawn; Lynch was twirling a set of handcuffs around his right index finger. In his other hand was the black trench coat he found in the shed.
“Hi Philip…right to remain silent and all that.”
13. The Ravine
It had been a crummy summer for storms. The flooding was bad, but the wind was worse. Hundreds of trees were uprooted including one on the edge of Walter McKenzie’s ravine.
The wind, however, only loosened the tree at its roots. It didn’t actually knock the tree over causing it to wedge itself in another tree across the gap.
An eight-point buck did that.
It had been startled by a snake.
The snake was understandably grumpy. Her nap had been interrupted by a splash. The splash was from a set of disgusting costume false teeth landing in a puddle near her head.
Some people would have called it fate. Others would have called it an exercise in chaos theory. Still others…
14. Father Leo’s Office
Leo was having a difficult afternoon. As it usually happened, a series of fleeting, random thoughts put him back in front of Eric Bell’s Grand Jury. It crippled him, allowing him to do little more than sit at his desk and stare at the ceiling.
“Based on your years at school with the defendant, do you think he could have done what he is being accused of?”
“No.”
His second year at seminary, Leo saw something. There were two students. One was in his year; the other was a year behind. What Leo saw, he saw in silhouette. It could have been something as simple as two men in a consoling embrace. He may have thought nothing of it had they not scurried in opposite directions when he cleared his throat. He recognized them both as they left the shadows. The one, it had been remarked around school, looked young for his age. The other would stand accused of violating Eric Bell thirty-two years later.
“Based on your years at school with the defendant, do you think he could have done what he is being accused of?”
“No.”
Presently, he heard a voice.
“Father Leo?”
It was detective Lynch, or, more accurately, it was Jim. It had been a few days since Leo had seen…Jim.
“Did you catch him?”
Lynch nodded with an expression of resolution and relief.
“Come with me, Father.”
“Where are we going?”
“I feel like I owe you for the other day. You wanna ride with me or take your own car?”
Leo stood.
“I’ll drive myself.”
***
THE INTERROGATION
In the interview room, were Detective Ernesto Gomez and Philip David McKenzie.
In the observation room, were James Lynch, Special Agent Marjorie Beck, the Mayor of Potterford, the P.P.D. Chief of Police, and Father Leonardo Pascucci.
The tape was rolling.
“We need to be perfectly clear about this for the record, Philip. Is it correct that you are waiving your right to have an attorney present?”
“It is.”
“Very well, then we’ll…”
“Under one condition.”
“Alright…you didn’t say that before, but I’m listening.”
Philip’s demeanor was one of concern, but not defeat.
“I am willing to make your job easier by keeping the shysters out of this room, but you have to do the same for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was unable to complete my task.”
“I know. I still don’t understand.”
“Someone will need to complete it for me.”
“Can’t help you there.”
“I don’t mean anyone specific. I don’t have anyone waiting in the wings, and I certainly don’t expect you to do it. You’re bound by your job. I understand that. No, no…plenty of people will want to see my mission complete when they hear what I have to say, and I need you to facilitate that.”
“Philip, I’m sure, in your mind, you’re making perfect sense, but I’m still lost. What are you asking me to do?”
“I need you, the Potterford Police Department, or whoever is behind that mirror over there, to make sure my statement is made public…and I mean viral-level public. I want everyone…everyone to hear every word.
“Your statement will be part of the public record. That’s just a matter of course.”
“No one goes looking for that shit. I need you to do more. Take out a page of the Herald, stick in on YouTube, give it to CNN, go on Howard Stern. I don’t care how you do it.”
“You won’t need me, the P.P.D. or anyone behind that mirror to help you with that. No matter what we do, in twelve hours, your story will rival O.J.’s. I hear NBC’s already working on the Saturday Night Live sketch.”
“That’s lovely sentiment, detective, but I’d still like your word that none of what I am about to say will be suppressed.”
“Okay…yes…within the boundaries of the law, I can promise that. Fair?”
“Fair.”
“Good, are you ready?”
“I am.”
Gomez motioned
