“Have you ever heard of the Hangmen?”
The question took Leah by surprise, and it must have shown in her face.
“You have. Tell me about it.”
“It was what started the first fight, the first time Brad pinned me down until I couldn’t breathe.” She thought back to that day. “I’d invaded his domain, he said. I went into the man cave without being asked. He kept it locked. He was talking about the Hangmen with someone on his cell phone.” Leah shuddered as she remembered what it had been like to be pinned by Brad. He was all muscle, hard as iron.
“Where was the man cave?”
“In the basement. Our house had a walk-out basement, so people could come and go without me seeing them.”
“Was that where the Hangmen met?”
“I think so. But not the only place.”
“What exactly were the Hangmen?”
Leah sighed. “A good old boys club? Brad said they were just a private group, a guy thing. I don’t know for sure. I heard rumors, and once in a while I’d overhear something about ‘his crew stepping in.’ I really thought it was mostly chicken-chested boasting. Brad called himself the executioner. All of the Hangmen had a tattoo of a gallows on them somewhere. Brad’s was on his right shoulder blade. He believed he controlled who made it in the PD and who didn’t.”
“Made it how?”
“He claimed he and his buds had the final say on who was hired, fired, or who promoted. One conversation I heard had to do with someone who wanted a slot in narcotics. Brad didn’t like the guy, so he didn’t get the promotion. Brad believed he was the reason, but I’m not sure he really had the power he thought he did.”
“Were you in the Hangmen?”
“No, it was all guys. I didn’t want to be in it. Too much testosterone.”
“Do you know all the members?”
“I’m not sure I know all of them. Brad, Terry Racer in IA, Chief Wilcox—”
“The chief is a member of the Hangmen?”
“Yeah, he’s a good friend of Brad’s family, Brad’s dad.”
“Who else?”
“Patterson in homicide, Larry Ripley, and Duke Gill.”
“So it included nonpolice officers?”
“Yes. In the basement, Brad had a bar top made out of an old log, and they all carved their names in it. I wasn’t supposed to know that, but I saw the carvings one day. Why are you asking about the Hangmen?”
“It’s been suggested to me that the Hangmen may, in part, have been responsible for your conviction.”
“What?” Leah felt her jaw drop. Heart racing, she stared at Gaffney. “But the jury convicted me on the evidence—”
“Did you murder your husband in bed?”
“No!”
“What makes you believe the jury was correct?”
“They weren’t. But trials are a game; people can be made to believe anything. The jury didn’t believe me.”
“I know. But what if I can prove that they didn’t believe you because someone had their hand on the scale?”
CHAPTER 25
Clint returned to work two weeks after the shooting. He took extra days off because even after his return from Bend, the incident was still generating a lot of media attention. It was a distraction. And he was tired. The shooting had affected him more than he wanted to admit. And then there was Leah’s stabbing. That news jolted him to the core in spite of Randy’s assurance that she was okay. It increased his resolve to pray for her every day until she was home. He used the extra time off to study for the sergeant’s test.
On his first day back, before briefing, he took the summons he’d gotten the morning of the shooting to Lieutenant Racer. After waiting twenty minutes to see the lieutenant, the reaction he got perplexed Clint.
“It’s been dropped,” Racer said with a disinterested shrug. “Be happy; go back to work.”
“This was a serious charge that I deserve the right to refute.”
“Look, there is no charge. I guess the crackhead decided to forget everything.”
Clint studied Racer for a moment and got a withering stare.
“What?” Racer asked.
“I would never, ever do what was suggested in that complaint.” He held up his digital recorder. “From now on I carry this, and I use it. No one is going to be able to file false charges on me, ever.”
Racer regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Clint left, resisting the urge to wipe the smirk off Racer’s face. He went back into service, glad the complaint was gone, but not unprepared. He wasn’t going anywhere without the recorder. The department had talked about body cameras for all officers, but that hadn’t happened yet, so Clint decided to be proactive. It wasn’t long before he realized he wasn’t the only person who needed to be careful.
At EOW he found himself in the patrol parking lot facing off against one of Brad’s biggest defenders, Erik Forman. Whoever was after Vicki had upped their game since the dead rat. She’d received death threats and her car had been vandalized with spray paint.
Forman was just coming on for the new shift when he made a comment to Richard Chambers that Clint overheard. “Weak sisters don’t belong in police work.”
Clint stopped. “Hey, Henderson doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her.”
Forman turned, faced Clint. “You talking to me?”
“If you’re harassing Henderson, I am. Hazing has no place in police work, period.”
Forman smirked and approached Clint. Chambers hung back, and Clint noticed that everyone who’d been in the parking lot, including Henderson and Sapp, was now listening and watching.
“The rookie who disrespected a senior officer at a crime scene?” Forman said. “That Henderson? Things getting too hot for her, she needs to get out of the kitchen. I hear TruckMaster is hiring.” That garnered snickers from at least one officer.
“She doesn’t need to have her property damaged, be bullied, or fear for her life.”
“You’re saying I painted her car? Threatened her? You’re crazy, Tanner.”
“I don’t think you did it, but I think you know who did. This has to stop. Brad’s dead. Leah’s in jail. We need to move forward like adults.”
“You’re wrong about what we need. If she can’t take it, maybe she needs to quit.”
“I’m not quitting. Not because of your childish behavior.” Henderson was fired up, but her boyfriend, a fellow officer going off duty, stopped her from getting in Forman’s face.
“We all depend on one another,” Clint said, holding up a hand. “At least we should all be able to depend on one another.”
“You and she both should have thought about that before you took sides with a cop killer. You’re both rats.”
Another Brad supporter stepped up, and then things got out of hand. Vicki’s boyfriend got in his face and the fight started. They traded punches and then grappled with one another. Clint grabbed the boyfriend and Chambers stepped forward to grab the other guy.
“We need to get past this—we really do,” Clint said once the two had been separated.
Forman just told the instigator to get to work, and with that the night shift officers dispersed.
Clint looked at Vicki’s boyfriend, who was wiping a bloody lip. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Clint. I appreciate your defense,” Henderson said. “But they’re not going to make me quit.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He turned to leave but stopped when he saw Chambers watching him from the edge of the lot. “You have something to add to the conversation?” Clint asked.
Chambers shook his head. A few seconds later he disappeared into the night.
Clint went home, still troubled. The idea of faked internal affairs complaints troubled him for a long time after.
A few days later a phone call from Randy improved his mood immensely.
“Gretchen took the case.�
�� Randy was a happy man; his joy reverberated over the phone.
“Ah, great news. I believe she’ll find the problem and get Leah a new trial,” Clint said, thinking of GiGi and her advice to try to see how God was working in tough situations rather than moaning about what had already happened.
“She and Leah hit it off. I have hope. Most of all, during my visit yesterday I saw hope in Leah’s eyes.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Clint thought a lot about Leah, every day. He also thought about how the verdict had rocked his faith, couldn’t imagine how she was coping. Certainly, the day she’d lashed out at him when the grand jury voted to indict, she was having her own crisis of faith. Where was she at now?
He hated thinking of her behind bars. He’d considered writing to her, maybe even applying to visit, but the last time he’d seen her, she’d told him to stay away from her and out of her life. While he knew most of it was stress talking, he figured she had enough on her plate, and he’d have to be satisfied with simply hearing about what was going on through Randy and praying for her.
At the office, first thing in the morning, Clint asked the president of the union to organize an emergency meeting. It was bad enough that Leah was unjustly behind bars, but the situation was destroying the department and the coworkers he respected and loved working with. At least neither of the officers had sought to file a complaint against one another. That would have opened up a whole other can of worms. The POA president agreed with Clint about the meeting and promised to set one up.
Other than the blowup in the parking lot, work had, for the most part, returned to normal after Clint’s shooting. The shooting itself was eventually ruled in policy. He’d spoken to the department psych once. Most of the talking he’d done was to his prayer group, Iron Sharpens Iron. They understood his perspective better than any shrink. Yeah, he’d hated to take two lives, but the bottom line was, he had absolutely no choice. He did one cable news interview like community relations requested, surprised and irritated that they micromanaged the interview. He was given statement guidelines, orders of Chief Wilcox. The image of the PD was everything, the chief said. Clint stuck with them because he didn’t want to give anyone any reason to target him.
Meeting Judge Revel was interesting. Clint wanted to ask if he was a member of the Hangmen, but he didn’t. Revel wasn’t much different in person than he was on the bench. There was an imperial air about him. But his heartfelt thanks to Clint for saving his daughter was real.
“One hears about such horrible ordeals in other places, happening to other families. This incident has driven home for me how important law enforcement is,” he said.
Through it all, Clint couldn’t emphasize enough that he’d only been doing his job.
Months passed before Gaffney contacted Clint and set up a meeting with her investigator. Ironically it was on the first anniversary of Leah’s prison sentence. He discovered that she was someone he already knew. Jenna Blakely had been a sheriff’s deputy for Multnomah County. Clint had met her once or twice at training. She was sharp as a tack and a solid Christian. She was also personally invested in putting a stop to domestic violence. Jenna had been injured on a domestic violence call, ironically by the woman she’d been called to protect. When Jenna arrested the husband, the woman had gone after her with a golf club. The incident cost her her left eye and eventually she’d retired because of it.
“Good to see you again, Jenna.” Clint gave her a hug. Jenna was tall, six-one and slender. She was a paddler, into all kinds of extreme kayaking, in spite of her injury.
“Likewise, Clint. Impressed now that I know a true hero.”
Clint felt himself redden. “Don’t start that. You know what I’m going to say.”
“I do. You were simply doing your job.” She arched an eyebrow. “Most guys wouldn’t have been that gutsy.”
“I’m praying you’ll be the hero for Leah.”
“I’ve read through her file once, plan on doing it again. If she got a raw deal, Gretchen will figure it out.”
“Where’re you starting?”
“Background first. I’ll be interviewing Leah as soon as possible. I’m also trying to snag an appointment with Birch, but he is elusive. Gretchen is now the attorney of record, so I hope that frees him up. You know, it’s best you let us handle things. Gretchen doesn’t want you to become a target of the Hangmen.”
“I know—she told me. Can’t help it, though; I hate sitting on the bench.”
“I gotcha. But this could take a long time, years. The wheels of justice move, but they move slowly.”
Clint knew what she meant.
Thinking about justice a few weeks later, Clint was happy to hear from Henderson that the hazing had stopped. The union meeting seemed to do the trick. But he couldn’t help but think that something completely unrelated also had a hand in it. Sergeant Forman had been suspended for two weeks.
“You can even hear him snoring.” Sapp was laughing so hard he had difficulty speaking. “It’s karma.”
Clint tried not to laugh, but it was hard. And he didn’t believe in karma.
They were both looking at Sapp’s phone. A citizen had taken cell phone video of Forman sleeping on duty. The sergeant had parked his car behind a business, maybe thinking he’d wake up and leave before they opened. The video went viral on social media, and an investigation into the sergeant’s behavior began. This was on top of an ongoing investigation about some of the time cards Forman had filed for the SAT officers. Though the unit had been disbanded over a year ago, the probe had been working its way through channels. The sergeant was in real trouble, and Clint couldn’t laugh about that. As much as they clashed, Clint didn’t want to pile on. He trusted IA to sort it out.
A couple of days after Forman’s suspension, Clint came to work, only to learn that Chambers was in the hospital. He’d gotten hurt chasing a suspect.
“How bad is it?” he asked Lieutenant Haun, who had given him the news.
“Might end his career. It’s his knee. He’d hurt the same knee playing football.”
“Are visitors okay?”
“He didn’t say no.”
After he logged on, Clint drove to the hospital to see how Chambers was doing. Were Chambers and Forman getting what they deserved?
No, he decided. That would be too pat, too simplistic.
He poked his head into the hospital room. The big man looked to be asleep. His right leg was elevated and swathed in a cast. There was purplish bruising on Chambers’s face. Haun had said he’d fallen while chasing a suspect. He must have fallen on his face.
Clint stepped into the room and Chambers jerked awake, irritation crossing his face for an instant before he focused on Clint.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to see how you’re doing, if you need anything.”
“Not from you I don’t.”
The animus surprised Clint. “Okay.” An awkward moment passed.
Chambers raised a hand. “Hey, sorry, didn’t mean that.” He shifted in the bed, wincing. “I’m just not at my best right now.”
Clint relaxed. “I get it.” He stepped closer.
“You still tight with Radcliff?” Chambers asked.
Clint shrugged.
“Think she’ll get a new trial?”
“I hope so.”
Chambers looked as if he was going to smile, but it came out as a grimace. “What goes around comes around.”
Clint frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Pain pills are kicking in. Maybe I hope Leah gets another day in court.” His eyes closed and he was out.
Clint stood by the bed for a minute. “I hope so too,” he whispered.
CHAPTER 26
“We’re filing a second appeal.”
In spite of the hope in his voice, Leah’s father looked older, and it broke her heart. She’d heard from Gretchen that the appeals court had denied their first appeal. Surprisingly, after tw
enty months in prison, Leah would say she was fine. She would never say she wanted to stay in prison for the rest of her sentence, but she had a sense of peace with her circumstances. She wanted her father to have that same peace.
“Dad, I want you to know that I’m okay. Right now, I feel like me being here is harder for you than me. Please, I feel your prayers holding me up; let my prayers do the same for you.”
“I’m being preached to by my daughter, and you know what?”
“What?”
“It feels good. I hate that you’re here, but I’m so glad you found your faith again.”
“Me too.”
Leah told Nora and the Bible study group about the failed appeal.
“You’re taking it well.”
“I guess I am. You think maybe being in this Bible study has helped me get my balance back?”
The ladies laughed.
“That happened as soon as you decided to stop fighting God,” Nora said.
“You’re right. By the way, I’m thinking of asking Chaplain Darrel if there’s any way I can be baptized in here.”
A huge grin split Nora’s face. “I was baptized in a laundry basket.”
“No kidding?”
“That’s right. We could do the same for you.”
Everyone agreed.
A little while later, Leah was in the infirmary for an analgesic—she’d overdone basketball the day before—when the intake counselor she’d talked to during the assessment period stopped in.
“How are you feeling, Radcliff?”
“I’m fine. No ill effects. I think this is my last scheduled recheck.”
“Things are working out in general population?”
“Yeah, I have a great cellmate. Thanks for arranging that.”
“I had nothing to do with it—simple luck of the draw.”
“Oh.” Then Leah remembered her father saying that Nora was answered prayer. She smiled.
“I have a question for you, Radcliff.”
“Shoot.”
“I know you and Lyons have been playing impromptu basketball games. You’ve got a regular group of ladies working out with you.”
Breach of Honor Page 13
