Silenced Justice: A Josh Williams Novel

Silenced Justice

Silenced Justice

A Josh Williams Novel

By Joe Broadmeadow

Copyright © 2015 Joe Broadmeadow

All rights reserved.

ISBN-1506182704

ISBN-13:978-1506182704

Dedication

…to those who pursue the truth…

Without truth, there is no justice
.

BURIED SECRETS

Chapter 1

September 11, 2009

7:15 AM

Rehoboth, Massachusetts

"Do you have a busy morning?" Keira Williams asked her husband.

"Nope," Josh said, finishing the last of his breakfast.

"Can you drop my car off for an oil change?" putting on her suit jacket and picking up her briefcase. "I'll take your truck to work."

"Of course, isn’t that what a husband is for?"

"Glad you know that. I gotta run, call you later," kissing him on the cheek. "I'm in court this afternoon, but I should be home before you, any dinner preferences?"

"Ha, you're not going to cook are you?" Josh laughed. "My stomach hasn't recovered from the last time." He ducked as Keira threw the dog's toy ball at him.

Cassidy, their eighty-pound Labrador, assuming this meant playtime, charged at Josh, fighting for the ball.

"Great, now she's going to want me to amuse her," Josh said.

"Learn not to insult your wife's cooking," Keira smiled. She grabbed the slobber-soaked ball from the dog and threw it at him again.

"Hey, you got dog slime all over me," Josh said, using two fingers to remove the ball from his lap.

"Good, serves you right."

Cassidy danced around in front of Josh, maneuvering to entice the ball from him. Josh opened the sliders to the deck and tossed the ball, sending the dog scurrying outside to chase after it.

"There, problem solved. Now back to me avoiding food poisoning. How about I cook so we both have a chance of surviving?"

"Suit yourself,” Keira said. “I am getting better," arms folded across her chest. "I made a delicious dinner last week."

"You heated up a plate of baked stuffed shells that I made. Then, you called me five times to ask me how to set the oven. That is not cooking, that is following simple directions," Josh said, pulling her close and kissing her.

"I'll take the car, go shopping, come home, and make dinner," Josh said, hugging her. "You can just sit there, look pretty, and watch me."

"I'm glad we settled that," Keira said, looking at her watch. "Talk to you later, I gotta get out of here.” She opened the cellar door, smiling back at Josh, and walked downstairs to the garage.

They built the house in Rehoboth three years ago after Josh's trial, and acquittal, on Civil Rights violations. Keira fell in love with the area. They hid the house in the woods to enjoy the more private, rural environment.

For Keira, it was a short drive to her law office in Providence. For Josh, it was an even shorter ride to the East Providence Police Department.

Josh waited until he heard the garage door opening, then reached into his briefcase and took out an envelope. Opening the flap, he withdrew the letter. No matter how many times he read it, he could not wrap his mind around the words.

Preliminary indications…potential for cancerous…inconclusive, requiring more testing…

Josh reread the letter, disbelieving the words. He didn't hear the cellar door open. Sensing something, he looked up, surprised to see Keira.

"Forgot my phone," she said. "Is something wrong? You have a weird look on your face." Her eyes narrowed, hands on her hips.

"What? Oh no," Josh answered. He tossed the letter face down on the table, hoping the casual gesture would quell her curiosity. "Reading a report from a case I’m working."

Keira eyed him for a moment, "You can't fool me. You do realize that, right?" glancing at the letter. "If it's one of your surprises, I'll figure it out." She went to the living room and grabbed her phone from the coffee table. As she walked past him, she brushed her hand over his cheek. Her eyes sparkling, she said, “You can never fool me, Mr. Williams." Her eyes darting again to the letter, she headed down the stairs.

He watched the door close.

Well, maybe just a little I can
.

Josh let out his breath and waited as his heart rate returned to normal. He put the letter back in the envelope and slid it behind the Bluetooth keyboard in his iPad case, hoping she'd never look there.

Cassidy clamored for Josh's attention, bouncing up and down on the rear deck, ball in her mouth, demanding to come in. Josh opened the slider. Cassidy thanked him with an enthusiastic shaking of wet fur from the romp in the woods, pelting Josh with water.

"Dammit Cassidy, I already took a shower," grabbing the dishtowel and wiping himself off. "I gotta go. Go take up your guard dog position."

Cassidy ignored the order, dropping the ball at Josh's feet, trying to get him to throw it again. She followed him around the room, dropping and retrieving the ball several times in her quest for more playtime. Failing that, she sulked to her dog bed, curled up, and went to sleep.

Josh opened the cellar door and looked back at the snoring Cassidy. "You have quite the life there, Cassidy. Stay off the couch.” He locked the door and headed to the car.

Cassidy's ears went into full alert status. She kept her eyes closed, tilting her head to listen as the garage door opened, then closed. Her eyes opened one at a time. Lifting her head, she stood up, stretched, walked to the front window, rested her snout on the sill, and watched Josh drive away.

She hesitated a moment, moving her ears around listening for any sounds and sniffing the air. Satisfied she was alone, she bounded to the soft couch, jumped up, circled several times to make a proper nest, and went to sleep. She would stay there until the sound of the garage door sent her scurrying back to the dog bed.

* * *

September 11, 2009

7:40 AM

Route 44 West

Rehoboth and Seekonk Line

Massachusetts

Keira climbed into Josh's Nissan pickup, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and headed towards the main road. She changed the SiriusXM radio to the Coffeehouse channel. She could never listen to the Gregorian Chants channel Josh enjoyed, unless she wanted to go to sleep. Josh had the oddest tastes in music.

Driving along Rocky Hill Road, she spotted two deer grazing along the edge of the woods. A flock of turkeys ambled across the road, the huge tom leading the way, forcing her to weave around them. She loved the daily exposure to nature and the quiet serenity of the woods.   

Turning onto River Street, she saw two people standing next to a motorcycle stopped along the side of the road. She noticed the helmeted heads turn and watch her as she drove past.

Must have broken down.

Keira continued to the intersection with Route 44. Waiting for a gap in the steady morning traffic, she joined the flow.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, she noticed the motorcycle pass two cars on the right just behind her. The bike swerved to the side to avoid hitting the back of her truck.
Idiots, gonna scrape those two off the road one day.

She made her usual stop at the ubiquitous Dunkin' Donuts. No matter how many they built, they were always crowded.

Deciding to forgo the drive-up, Keira parked in front. She noticed the motorcycle pass by her, stopping at the far end of the lot.

Both riders wore black leather riding suits and helmets, hiding their faces. They stayed with the bike.

That's the trouble when you marry a cop; they make you suspicious and paranoid
.

As she waited in the line, she kept glancing back. The two riders sat on the bike, still wearing their helmets. After placing her order, she took out her cell phone to call Josh.

"Keira, hey how are you?" a voice called to her.

Keira turned, recognizing one of her neighbors. She put her phone back in her pocket. "Hi, Marie, how are you?"

"Okay, I guess. We're off to Boston again, John needs another round of chemo," Marie said.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Keira replied. Her order arrived. After paying, she started to head back to her truck. "Tell John we are hoping for the best," she said, patting Marie's arm. "If you need anything, anything at all, just let Josh and I know."

"I will, Keira. You take care as well," Marie said, turning to place her order.

Keira returned to the truck.

* * *

September 11, 2009

8:00 AM

Route 44 West near the

Massachusetts and Rhode Island border

The motorcycle passenger watched Keira leave the coffee shop. As Keira drove away, they followed, leaving some distance between the bike and the truck.

As the bike pulled out, the passenger removed his helmet; tossing it away.
Better to aim this way
. "After she passes the next light,” he yelled over the engine noise, “pull up on her side." The driver nodded.

Traffic was heavy, the roadway crowded with commuters. The driver moved close to the center of the road, ready to make his move to catch the truck. 

* * *

Motion in her rearview mirror drew Keira's attention. The rising sun behind her made it difficult to see, but she sensed the bike was still following her. ‘
Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you,’
Josh's voice echoed in her mind.

The sun disappeared behind a cloud; she caught a glimpse of the bike. The passenger was no longer wearing a helmet.

Pushing the Bluetooth button, she said, "Call Josh."

"Contact not found," came the response.

"Josh, dammit, call Josh," the tone and tempo of her voice rising.

"For help, say help. For more options..."

Flicking the command button off, she fumbled with the phone and brought up her favorites list, pushing the call button.

"Miss me already?" Josh answered, his voice coming over the hands-free connection.

"Always, my dear," she said. "Look, I know this is nothing, but I think there's a motorcycle following me."

"Where are you?"

"Just left Dunkin' Donuts at the Seekonk line."

"Okay listen, I am not too far behind you. Drive to the police station. Don't stop for lights. Just look and go. If it's nothing they won't stay with you."

"I'm not going to run any red lights, Josh. You've made me psycho over nothing."

"Keira,” Josh replied, "you noticed them, your instincts are good, and you're driving my truck. Humor me. If it's nothing, it's nothing."

"Okay, okay," she answered.

"And stay on the phone with me; I'm heading your way. I'll call the station on my portable, see if there's a cruiser nearby."

Keira came to the light at Route 44 and Arcade Avenue; she stopped as the light changed to red. Glancing in the mirror, she saw the bike still behind her, two cars between them. She wondered about the passenger no longer wearing a helmet.

"Where are you?" Josh asked. "Sergeant Armstrong is sitting on 44 at the Rhode Island line. After you pass him, drive to the station."

"I am at the light at Arcade Avenue, there's a big truck in front of me. I can't get by. And Josh…."

"What, Keira?” Josh asked.

"The passenger took off his helmet, the driver kept his on. Weird, huh?" Keira said. "Just the driver has a helmet on."

"Where's the bike now?"

"Back a ways, two cars between us. Josh, forget it. I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are, just humor me a bit until you get to the city. Armstrong will stop the bike."

As the light changed, Keira started to move. Glancing in the side view mirror, she saw the bike pass the cars, moving to catch up to her.

Then, she saw the gun.

"Oh my God," Keira screamed. "Josh, there's a gun, he's got a gun."

"Go, go," Josh yelled, "just go, don't stop. Weave back and forth. Don't let 'em get alongside you." Still a half-mile behind her, he shouted into the portable radio, "271 to S1."

"S1 go 271"

"There's a gun, Keira says one of the guys has a weapon. They're trying to catch up to her."

"Where is she, Josh?" Armstrong asked. This was personal now.

"She just left the light at Arcade."

"Okay, I'm right at the line. Seekonk PD has a unit coming up behind her." Armstrong reached behind his head, releasing the shotgun from the cage-mounted lock. He chambered a round, checked the safety, and then parked the car at an angle to the roadway.

He had the perfect firing position.

Once Keira came by, it would give him enough time to aim and end this. He wasn't going to arrest anyone.

"Keira," Josh said, "talk to me."

"Passing PriceRight, the light is green; the bike is back a ways." Her heart was racing as she weaved the car back and forth, preventing the bike from approaching alongside.

Josh could hear the tension rising in her voice. He tried to reassure her. "Okay, Armstrong is right there. Just keep going, keep weaving, he'll get them."

All the excited radio traffic caught the attention of Steve "Chubby" White, tow truck operator and cop wannabe.

Chubby tried several times to get on the department. However, his love of food, and inability to complete even one sit-up, prevented it.

He did the next best thing. He bought a tow truck and a scanner. He then secured a city towing contract by contributing money to the campaign funds of several city council members. The way of the world….

As Chubby sat in his garage, listening the radio conversation, he saw his opportunity to be a hero. The garage sat on a dead-end street, right at the point Route 44 entered Rhode Island. Positioning his truck facing the roadway, he waited for his moment in the sun.

Timing was everything. He waited for Keira to pass by.

As Keira’s truck flew by him, he stepped on the accelerator, and put the truck in the path of the motorcycle.

* * *

Armstrong watched as Keira came flying over the rise, the truck's tires losing road contact. Once she passed his cruiser, he aimed the shotgun towards the sound of the approaching motorcycle. A flash of movement entered his peripheral vision. A large, fast-moving object blocked his sight picture.

The bike driver, focusing on catching up to Keira, had no chance to avoid the heavy-duty tow truck now blocking the road.

The operator reacted to the sudden change; the involuntary turn away from the truck forcing the bike onto its side.

The sounds of screeching metal and shattering glass, the violence of a high-speed impact, echoed in the street. A cloud of dust and smoke obscured Armstrong's view. The odor of fuel, hot oil, and burning tires enveloped him.   

The force of the impact separated the driver from the bike and his right foot from his leg. Sliding and tumbling along the roadway, the former driver came to rest against the curb. He was unconscious and in no condition to try to escape.

The passenger did not fare as well.

The momentum tossed the passenger headfirst into the side of the tow truck. With a helmet, recovering the pieces of his shattered skull would be simpler. Without the helmet, the head disintegrated.

There was a benefit to the lack of a helmet- instantaneous death.

* * *

Keira heard the crash and pulled onto Commercial Way.

Sergeant Armstrong, at first cursing the tow truck, now realized it solved the problem. An unorthodox, yet effective, solution.

Josh arrived in time to see the bike go over and the resulting death and mayhem.

Chubby White, ecstatic with his intervention, was less so with the sizable dent and blood on his tow truck.

Josh pulled up to Keira. She stood next to the truck, shaking. He hugged her and looked her over. "You okay?"

"No, I am not okay. I start out my day chased by a gunman. That's not okay."

Josh looked in the truck. "What, no coffee for me?"

Keira punched him in the back and held him tighter. "Interesting life we lead isn't it?" as her shaking subsided.

A few moments later, Chief Brennan arrived on the scene with just about every on-duty, and some off-duty, officers.

"You okay?" Brennan asked.

"Fine Chief, fine," Josh answered.

"Not you, I meant Keira. I don't care about you. I can see you're alright."

"I'm fine, Chief," Keira said, forcing a smile.

Brennan hugged her. "We'll sort this out. Why don't you let Lieutenant Akerley drive you to the station? We're going to need a statement. I'll have your car brought there for you."

Keira nodded and walked with the Lieutenant to his car.

Chief Winston Franklin Brennan served as Chief of the East Providence Police for the past 15 years. Even in small cities like East Providence, weird stuff happened, but nothing like this.

"What the hell happened, Josh?" Brennan asked.   

Josh told the Chief what he knew.

Brennan waved for Sergeant Armstrong to come over, Chubby in tow. "Listen to me, gentlemen," Brennan said. "This means you too, Chubby," grabbing the man's arm, stopping his waving to the gathering media. "I am going to try to put a lid on this. We need to keep this out of the news until we figure out what's going on."

"How we gonna do that, Chief?" Armstrong asked. "You know some asshole in the PD is gonna try to win points by giving them the story."

"Here's how," Brennan said. "I'll tell them it was a carjacking gone bad. The two guys on the bike tried to steal Keira's car and she managed to get away. We let them know one of them was a gang banger. They'll buy that. The problem is controlling the story about our dead mystery man. We'll just have to keep a tight hold on anything we find out until they lose interest. Any ideas?"

"Let's make Chubby the hero," Josh said. "He did stop them. Let them focus on our friend here until something else happens."

"Hmm, that might work. We can hope for a murder in Providence or a State Senator getting locked up for drunk driving to draw their attention away," Brennan said. "Okay, I'll deal with this. You two go figure out what the hell happened here."

The Chief turned to Chubby. "Chubby my boy, you are about to have your fifteen minutes of fame. But I need you to remember something."

"What's that?" Chubby said, the smile covering his whole face.

"You keep to this story," Brennan said. "You heard the scanner about the motorcycle chasing Keira, that they tried to steal her car and had a gun, and you were trying to block them from catching her. Is that clear?"