False Front (20 page)

Jake tore off back down the driveway, wincing at the sound of gravel against his beloved car. The dust would wash off but he was certain if he made many more trips down ratty drives he’d have to get a new paint job.

When Jake arrived at the Childress home he saw no sign of Seth’s truck but he did see a big hole in the front door. Mrs Childress answered his knock. He flipped open his ID and asked if her husband or son were at home.

‘No,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m waiting for my husband. That crazy Seth O’Hara blasted a hole in our front door. I thought he was going to kill me.’

‘OK. Tell your husband I’m heading to the school to make sure he’s not there. And please ask him to call my cell if he finds Seth.’ Jake fidgeted as Mrs Childress wrote down his number, then he was off again.

At the high school, Jake spotted Seth’s truck in the circular drive in front of the building. The door to the cab hung open and neither a rifle nor a shotgun were in the gun rack on the back window.

He raced toward the entrance to the school. When he pulled open the door, he heard excessive commotion in the main office and screams coming from down the hall. He followed the screams, pulling his gun as he ran. He just hoped to God he didn’t have to use it.

He turned a corner and heard a multitude of shouting voices and sobbing hysteria. He followed the sound and stopped beside the open doorway to a class. He peered around the corner. A female teacher stood in front of the class with her back pressed against the blackboard. More than twenty frightened faces stared back at him as they sat with scrunched shoulders in the one-piece chairs, an attached writing surface curving around in front of their bodies.

Todd Childress stood up against the far wall, hands up, blubbering that he didn’t do anything.

In front of him stood Seth O’Hara, pointing the end of a rifle into the teenager’s face. The shotgun was attached to a strap looping over his shoulder and resting across his back. Jake swung through the doorway and into a shooter’s stance. ‘Drop the rifle right now, Seth.’

‘Leave me alone. Y’all won’t take care of business so I’m going to do it for you and for my boy.’

‘Seth,’ Jake said as he crept forward, ‘you don’t want to shoot him in front of all these kids.’

‘Get out of here, FBI man.’

‘Seth, let’s get everyone else out of the classroom.’ Jake waved his hands and pointed toward the door. As Jake passed a cluster of students, they darted behind his back out into the hall.

Seth did not turn around. He kept his eyes on Todd, who cried and pleaded, ‘I did not kill Dylan. I swear to God. I didn’t. Please don’t kill me.’ A wet stain spread across the front of the boy’s jeans.

Jake took one cautious step after another, ready to freeze if Seth looked in his direction. When the last student left the room, followed by their teacher, Jake moved faster until he was behind Seth with the muzzle of his gun pressing against the base of his skull. ‘Drop the rifle, Seth.’

‘Not unless you promise to arrest this bastard.’

‘I promise you, I’ll take him into the sheriff’s office and ask him a lot of questions.’

‘Slap his wrist and send him home, too,’ Seth accused.

‘Seth, you’re going to have to trust me. I want to get to the bottom of what happened to your son – no matter where it leads, I want the truth.’

Seth stood still without turning around. Sounds of running footsteps and shouted orders came down the hall. Jake glanced back to the door where a cluster of deputies stood with weapons drawn. If Jake couldn’t talk Seth into standing down, blood would be shed soon.

‘There’s no way out, Seth.’

‘I don’t care if I die. I’ll pull the trigger, get justice for Dylan and then I don’t care what happens to me.’

Todd whimpered. Seth stabbed at him with the rifle barrel and said, ‘Shut up, sissy boy.’

‘Martha cares,’ Jake whispered. ‘She’s heartbroken over Dylan’s death. Don’t make her grieve yours at the same time. Don’t leave Martha all alone. She’s a good woman. She deserves more. She’s the one who carried Dylan inside of her body for nine long months. She’s the one who labored for hours to bring him into the world. She’s the one who held him to her breast and gave him sustenance. Don’t destroy her, Seth, with rash, impulsive behavior. And how will Martha explain your death to your mother? I know your mom’s not doing well; your death could kill her.’

After an eternity of silence, the barrel of the rifle slowly tilted down. At the moment it aimed toward the floor, Jake jerked Todd away, flinging him across the room, slammed Seth’s body up against the wall and snatched the rifle out of his hand. He tossed it into a far corner, removed the shotgun from Seth’s back and cuffed his wrists behind him.

Jake turned Seth over to the waiting deputies and said that he wanted Todd Childress taken to the station, too.

‘Agent, that’s Deputy Childress’ boy. There’s no call to run him in.’

‘Yes, there is. I wouldn’t care if he were the FBI Director’s son. He has information. And I want answers. Stick him in an interrogation room. I’ll be right behind you. And see if Becky Carpenter is in class – if she’s not, go to her home. I want her in an interrogation room, too.’ Jake headed down the hall to the school office to inform the administration that everything was now under control.

At least here. At least now. Jake sighed. So much more was out of control and he feared it may get worse.

THIRTY-EIGHT

A
fter calming Charley, Lucinda rushed back to her office to continue her review of the yearbook. In the class of ’79, she found one Bonnie – Bonnie Upchurch. She found a Bonnie Alder in the class of ’80. She flipped through page by page, looking for connections between the four players.

Tess and Charles Rowland both worked for the high school newspaper,
Gator News
. Tess and Bonnie Upchurch were on the debate team. Bonnie Upchurch and Candace were in the Senior Chorus together. Rowland and Candace were members of the photography club. Bonnie Alder had no photographs indicating a connection to any of the other three. Lucinda sent an email to Lara Quivey asking for background on both Bonnies just the same, indicating the top priority was Bonnie Upchurch.

She then placed a call to Frank Eagleton’s attorney, William Quillian, requesting that his client voluntarily submit to DNA testing. When Quillian balked, Lucinda snapped, ‘Don’t you think you should confer with your client on this matter, counselor?’

‘We know that our client’s DNA is all over that house. It would not be surprising for his DNA to be under her fingernails. If you got a match to my client, you’d arrest him and charge him with her murder on the flimsiest of causes. I will not put my client through that.’

‘If it’s not your client’s DNA suspiciously jammed beneath the victim’s fingernails, your client is cleared. If it is his DNA, he merely remains on our suspect list.’

‘You’re telling me that a positive result will not cause his arrest?’

‘The DA would put my butt in a sling if I used that as cause for charging your client.’

‘I want it in writing.’

‘I don’t think so, sir. My captain would have my scalp.’

‘Seems like everyone is trying to get their hands on your body parts, Lieutenant.’

‘Hazard of the job, counselor.’

‘I’ll talk to my client but I won’t make any promises. In fact, I will advise him against it.’

‘You succeed and I’ll get a warrant to compel him to provide samples.’

‘I have an excellent track record in fighting those warrants, Lieutenant. I would not count on your success prematurely.’

‘I do nothing prematurely, Mr Quillian. How about you?’

Quillian made no response.

‘Call me after you confer with your client, please.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Quillian responded.

‘You do that,’ Lucinda said and disconnected the call. She wondered how Jake was doing and if he was anywhere near finding the answer to why Dylan took his life – or if it might be one of those questions destined to go unanswered.

Ted Branson’s arrival with a Scott Technologies search warrant broke off her reverie. ‘Good. One thing’s gone right this morning,’ Lucinda said. ‘You’re coming with me to serve it?’

‘I was hoping you’d ask,’ Ted answered.

On the drive to Scott Technologies, Ted explained the decision of the judge. ‘We’ve been given a very limited warrant. We can only access the company’s data to identify the sender of the email. Nothing more. Once we do that, unless the company gives us voluntary clearance, we need to have a hearing before the judge as to whether that individual might communicate proprietary business information before we can access that person’s email account.’

‘You’re kidding me?’

‘Wish I were. Apparently there was an incident with another high-tech company and an investigator leaked company secrets that reached the ears of the competition. He doesn’t want a repeat performance of that screw-up. He said that with both parties present, an agreement can be reached about how we can maintain confidential information for the company, and at the same time allow law enforcement to obtain any other communication that would be relevant to the investigation.’

‘That’s right – the almighty corporate dollar needs to be protected from the blowback of a murder investigation. Money is always more important than people. How could I have forgotten?’

‘You might want to stow your sarcasm while we’re out at Scott Technologies. It could make things more difficult,’ Ted said.

‘Do I look like an idiot to you, Branson?’

‘Lucinda, you know you can be too—’

‘Don’t start, Branson. Don’t start.’

They rode the remainder of the trip in silence. Upon arrival, they went to the front desk with the warrant in hand. The receptionist said, ‘One moment, please,’ and made a phone call.

The moment stretched into five minutes. Lucinda approached the desk. ‘Excuse me. Is the data center that far from this desk? Can it really be taking them that long to get here? Call them again, please.’

‘We are waiting for our attorney. I cannot contact the data center until he arrives.’

‘Excuse me, miss. This is a search warrant, issued by a judge. It means we get immediate access to the data center.’

‘I am following procedure, Lieutenant.’

‘How about I follow procedure and slap a pair of cuffs on your wrists?’

‘I cannot do anything but what I was instructed to do.’

‘Fine. I am instructing you to press the button that gives us access beyond this welcome area.’

‘I cannot do that.’

‘Really? Well, I can arrest you for obstructing justice and I can bring in a uniformed officer to relieve you of your post and allow me to serve my warrant. Is that what you want?’

‘No. I would like you to please sit and wait patiently. Our attorney will be here as soon as he can.’

‘And this time gives the data center the ability to erase data, wipe out the information we need. This is unacceptable. I’m giving you thirty seconds to make up your mind.’

The receptionist grew more agitated with each passing second. When only eight remained until the deadline set by Lucinda, the door opened to reveal a man of medium height, dressed in a suit, shooting his cuffs as he walked. ‘Lieutenant,’ he said with a nod of his head. ‘Could I review the document, please?’ He slid a pair of half-glasses on his face and focused on the paper she handed him.

‘If anything has been destroyed while we’ve been kept waiting out here, I will hold you responsible. The bar will not be pleased with a tampering with justice charge.’

He looked over the top of his glasses and said, ‘Please, Lieutenant. This is not a game of cops and robbers; we consider it a serious business matter. We can’t just have anyone claiming to possess a warrant to come in and run roughshod over our data. Now, if you will stop interrupting, I will complete my review and we can proceed.’

Lucinda wanted to snap back at him but she held her tongue and looked over to Ted, rolling her eyes. Ted covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk.

Finally, the attorney looked up, stowed his glasses in his suit jacket pocket and said, ‘Everything appears to be in order. If you will follow me, we will get the information authorized in this document. After that, if you want to take this matter any further, have the court clerk contact me so I can check on my availability for a hearing on any further information you may want to obtain.’

Lucinda, eternally impatient, walked behind the attorney, bristling at his slow progress up the hallways. She wanted to give him a shove to hurry him forward but suppressed that primitive urge.

A computer tech in the lab brought up the email in question and jotted a code down on a piece of paper. ‘We do not keep the designated codes and the name of the person on the main frame computer. We have that data on a separate laptop kept in our safe.’

‘Get the laptop,’ Lucinda said.

The tech turned to the attorney, who nodded.

‘One moment, please,’ he said and left the lab.

Lucinda sighed and turned to Ted. He appeared to be paying no attention to the course of events. He seemed more fascinated with observing the size of the main frame and the intricacy of the technology present in the room. Lucinda jabbed him with her elbow.

Ted looked at Lucinda and shrugged. ‘Professional curiosity,’ he whispered.

Lucinda gave him a withering stare.

When the tech returned, he placed the computer on his desktop and fired it up.

‘Can you turn it this way so I can see the screen?’ Lucinda asked.

‘No. Do not turn it. No, Lieutenant. When he locates the record in question, you may then look at the screen but not before.’ The attorney stepped behind the tech and watched as he pulled up the correct file.

The tech turned to the attorney again. This time his eyes widened and a spot of white appeared beside each nostril. The lawyer’s jaw clenched tight.

‘Well?’ Lucinda said.

‘May I see the search warrant again, please?’

Lucinda handed it to him, wondering at his sudden politeness. What has he found that is making him so nervous?

The attorney laid down the document and exhaled loudly. To the tech, he said, ‘We have no choice.’