Silent Witness (32 page)

''Who wants to know?'' Archer kept his own voice steady. No fear, at least none the man behind him could hear.

''Nobody in particular. Just asking. Word has it you did a kid. Not a good thing, man. My boys don't like that kind of action. 'Specially from a cop. You suppose to protect and serve, man. Ain't that right, Ar-ch-er.''

The man was so close his breath licked the back of Archer's neck. Archer steeled himself. His hands were loose by his side. He was ready for anything. He picked his feet up and put them down deliberately.

How had it come to this?

He flexed his fingers.

He had done everything right. Almost everything.

Up with the right foot and down.

Balance. Balance
.

Archer thought the word until it became a part of his backbone. Moving his head ever so slightly he checked out the line. Eleven. He counted eleven men in front of him, God knew how many behind and not a one who would help him if he needed it. But if he could make it to the door and the guard. If that could happen . . .

''So, Ar-ch-er. . .''

The man behind him was closer still, his pelvis pushing into Archer's ass. Still no hands, still nothing tearing through his skin, ripping up his insides. Archer whipped his head to the side only to catch himself. No fast moves, nothing to draw attention until he was closer to the door, the guard and help.

''Oh, sorry, man. Sorry I got kind of personal there,'' his friend chuckled and then it came.

A sharpness near his kidney, a pressure that seemed unbearable. Archer stiffened and started to crumble and succumb to the fear that grabbed his gut before he realized it was a joke. His friend sniggered.

''Sorry, man. Gotta watch that. Gotta keep in my personal space.''

Archer righted himself. Seven more men and he was there. He would be safe. He would ask to see Josie who would ask for protective custody, who would. . .

Again. The jab.

God he was scared.

Strong fingers, long nails.

Something in the hand
?
A shank?

Archer tried to move away but the man in front turned with a look of such utter, soulless antipathy that Archer backed off.

God help me.

''It's nothing, man.'' That breathy whisper again. ''Nothing but a little love tap. Nothing but me telling you how it is, man. Nothing but. . .''

God Save me.

''You.''

A guard barked. Archer's head snapped toward the call along with every other man in the cafeteria. Archer was weak with relief. The guard was looking at him.

Thank you God.

It was over for now. The Man picked him out of the line, ordered him toward another door, away from the yard, away from the guy who recognized him, toyed with him, waited for him. He was saved for another hour and maybe that was all he needed because the guard brought news.

''Your lawyer wants to see you.''

Some things were still going his way.

Archer opened his mouth. A lady in a white coat swabbed his cheek. Josie looked on with eyes as dark blue as a rough sea and a face as hard as a sheared cliff. Archer kept his eyes averted from both of them. He was angry with Josie for insisting on this humiliation, insisting on proof of a guilt he swore he didn't own. So Archer closed his eyes and let the technician work. The woman did so with little interest, eventually packaged the swabs and was let out of the interview room. Josie waited until the door closed.

''I told Colin and Jude I wasn't going to have you tested.''

''Then why are you?'' Archer still would not look at her.

''Because I want to be sure that you were the one he was reaching for, Archer. I want to know that you were the last person Tim Wren touched.'' Josie's gaze was glued to Archer. She looked for any little tick of guilt, a tremor that followed a lie.

''I probably was.''

''Were you scratched?''

''I don't remember. Even if it is my DNA, it won't prove that Tim was trying to stop me from unlatching his harness. It won't prove he scratched me on the ride. All you're going to do is give the prosecution the chance to make this seem like proof. Is that what you want?'' Arched slid his eyes toward her.

''I'm paying for the test. These results can't released without my permission. You would have to approve releasing anything with Lexi's DNA on it. None of this is going to get into court,'' Josie said and Archer found that as reassuring as Jude had.

''There's always a way around everything. There are ways to make the smallest, most insignificant thing seem big and important. Ruth Alcott is a master at that. I thought you were better than Ruth Alcott.'' Archer swung his head away only to look back at a silent Josie. There it was. The final brick in the wall between them. Josie had no assurance to offer. Archer stood up. ''I guess we're done?''

''No, we're not,'' Josie said and motioned him down again. ''I have a few more questions. Did you medicate Tim the day of the accident?''

''No.'' Archer answered simply.

''Did Lexi?''

''No, and I was with them every minute of that day.'' Archer straightened his shoulders. ''That's the truth, Jo.''

''Who took Tim to the bathroom, Archer?'' Josie was unmoved by the protestation.

''I did. Twice.''

''Tim had Pheonobarbital in his blood,'' Josie told him. ''Someone gave it to him.''

Archer's dark brown eyes narrowed as he took a good look at Josie. She looked parched, as if all the moisture that made her skin glow and her hair shine had been sucked out of her. Those blue eyes of hers were shadowed and haunted, sinking into a face that was slashed into harsh planes of cheekbones, chin and brow. Her hands shook and she wasn't even aware of it. When Josie tired of waiting for him to speak, she did and she sounded exhausted.

''Someone gave it to him,'' Josie said again as she got up to leave.

At the door, Josie rapped twice. It opened. She looked a minute longer at Archer, waiting for the words that would make everything right.

''I already told you everything you need to know, Jo.''

''What about the things I should know, Archer?'' she asked with a trace of resignation in her voice.

''I've told you that, too. Believe whatever you want.''

It was the last thing Archer said. He didn't even try to stop her from walking out the door.

''What do you think? Can you come down anymore?'' Roger McEntyre knew he was asking the impossible.

''Sorry, Roger, that's as close as I can shave it. Twenty-grand is going to get the Rotater up and running like new. If I cut any corners on that thing, you're going to have problems. You don't want any more problems, do you?''

Roger looked out the window of the small office and almost laughed. Blackstone Engineering had been holding the attractions at Pacific Park together for more than ten years and they knew what another problem meant to the park. They also knew the shape the Rotater was in and they had just given Roger the bad news bill to fix it. Of course, Roger wouldn't have to worry about any of this if Colin Wren made it official that he was withdrawing his suit against Pacific Park. Roger had expected notification by now, but nothing. Still, he wasn't surprised. Jude Getts wouldn't let a wrongful death plum like Colin slip away so easily. So, until they were officially off the hook for Timothy Wren, Roger had to watch the pennies even with Blackstone Engineering.

They had always talked straight about the tradeoff between cost and safety. Now that Pacific Park was under Greater United Park's microscope a huge repair fee for a major attraction would just be one more red flag. Isaac expected Rotater repairs to come in between eight and ten grand. Twenty was going to give the old guy apoplexy.

''Roger?'' Mike Blackstone was waiting. ''Roger? I've got to know if you want us to go ahead? We're starting to book out for the end of the year and I can't hold you a spot indefinitely.''

Roger took a deep breath and put a hand to his eyes. He felt up against it as he never had before. It seemed there was a whole army in his way: Colin Wren, Josie Bates, Jude Getts, the fat guy with the engineering friend. Even the dead kid seemed real these days. But he'd been up against armies before and he would do what he had always done.

''No problem. Let's book this and get you guys started.'' Roger reached into the inside pocket of his coat, found his checkbook and a pen. ''Just make it look good for GUP okay? They're coming back out end of the month.''

''You got it, my friend.'' Mike watched Roger scribble out a check. He took it. His brow knit. ''A personal check for ten grand?''

''I'm good for it.''

''It's not that. It's just – unusual. There something you want to tell me, Roger?'' Mike asked.

''I want to tell you that this is between you and me. You give Isaac a bid for ten, cash my check for the other ten and we're good to go. Can you do that?''

''I can, if you say.''

Mike put the check in his drawer. Together they decided on a date to start the refurbishment. When Roger left, he had one more stop to make - drinks with a VP at Greater United Parks who hit the bottle a little too hard. A few choice words and that VP would go back to the office swearing that Archer was already convicted of murdering Tim Wren, that Colin Wren knew it and was dropping his suit any day and that Pacific Park was the buy of the century.

CHAPTER 33

Southern California was back. The idea of fall blew out of everyone's head like dead leaves in Des Moines. It would be sun, sun, sun until Christmas and then some. Batteries were recharged. People moved faster through the day, ideas flashed in heads like the glint off a Porsche's bumper, kid's ditched school, men took up with younger women, wives had their nails done and dried them in the sun. That's why the gate looked so good at Pacific Park. Not spectacular, but real good.

Isaac shared the news with Greater United Parks. He also shared the news that Archer was bound over for trial in the death of Timothy Wren even though that had been reported in every media. He told them Colin Wren was rethinking his suit against Pacific Park. Happily, Pacific Park would be exonerated of any wrongdoing. There would be no settlement in young Mr. Wren's death. Greater United Park, already knowing this from a certain vice-president, was delighted to have the information confirmed and all was well in the world of acquisitions.

''It was like a miracle, Roger. I thought they would worry because attendance was a little light, but they were happy. Truly impressed. . .''

Isaac stopped talking and walking. It was unlike Roger to be preoccupied and it worried Isaac no little bit until Roger looked away from the phone memo he was reading.

''Yes, Isaac.'' Roger cleared his throat and smiled under that thick mustache of his. These moments of joy were few and far between for the old man. Roger folded the message and put it in his pocket. It would wait until they were done.

''I'd almost given up, you know, Roger. Almost.'' Isaac lifted a finger and waved it as a warning to Roger never to succumb to self-doubt. ''I thought this place would go the way of so many others. The Pike. Remember the old Pike?''

Isaac walked around Roger's desk, sat in a chair beside it and settled in for a chat.

''Now, there was a place. Not like the new thing they got there. Long Beach was a big port then, you know. The young sailors rode the roller coaster and picked up the girls and got their first tattoos It was a fine park. This is a fine park and a fine day. Did I tell you the rest of the good news, Roger? Our insurance is being reinstated and the estimate on the Rotator came in exactly as I thought it would. Not a penny more. I know my machinery, Roger. No one can say I don't. What a good day this has been.

''Yes, Roger, everything will be fine. I can rest easy. My life's work won't disappear. Your father's fine work won't disappear.''

Isaac's gaze wandered and his words drew out low as if to follow. It was something old men did. One thought led to another and another and it always led to something sad. A friend long gone, a competitor out of business. Loneliness.

''I don't think there was ever a chance of that,'' Roger reassured him, startling Isaac as he did so. It was as if he had forgotten the younger man was there. Then his expression changed and he looked kindly, gratefully on Roger.

''You're a good boy to try to fool me, but I knew we were in trouble. You're like my own son, the way you worry about me.'' Tears were in Isaac's eyes at the mention of the long lost son but they passed sooner than later today and Isaac brightened. ''And I want you to know that I have made arrangements for you, too. It will be in the contract that you are to remain in this position for as long as you like – unless, of course, you do something bad. And stock options, Roger. I'm splitting those. . .Ah, well, you'll see. You'll see what I've arranged.''

There was that finger waggle again. Roger almost laughed aloud. This was like being a kid again.

Don't eat too much cotton candy.

Be careful there, watch the lead rope.

Roger, trust only those who have proved worthy. Like your father.

That seemed a lifetime ago. Roger smiled at the finger wagging, knowing that bad things were subjective. As far as Roger was concerned he had done nothing bad and even today, this last bit of a problem, might be taken care of without him transgressing. It would all depend on that phone call he still had to make, that woman he still had to talk to. Roger tried to help Isaac wrap it up so he could get on with his business.

''I think I'll be around here a good long time,'' Roger assured him. ''And I promise I'll keep an eye on the place for you.''

''So sure of yourself, Roger? But you're young. Why not be the cock of the walk?'' Isaac chuckled. ''Today, though, we're both the cocks so you'll come to dinner and tell me all the crazy things the new owners will do. I'm not fooling myself about that. But I will remember the way it is today.'' Isaac tapped his head and his heart and gave Roger a wink. ''Come on, Roger, let's walk the park. Nothing like a good crowd on a sunny day to make an old man feel happy. We'll ride the roller coaster like we did when you were small.''