Promise You Won't Tell?

by John Locke

  “I’ll watch it tonight, and let you know tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  He turns and walks back toward the front of his office building, each step slower than the preceding one. As if he doesn’t really want to reach his destination. In fact, he’s walking so slowly I fear he might die of old age before he gets to the door.

  I put my car in gear and head back to my office.

  When I get there, I find the place ransacked. The door of my safe has been pried open. There’s nothing inside.

  It takes a moment before I realize I’m never going to know what was on that tape.

  I’ll never know the truth of what happened to Riley at the slumber party.

  And neither will you.

  I’m lying.

  No one’s been in my office, no one broke into my safe, no one stole my CD.

  I was just messing with you.

  I open the safe, remove the CD, take it to my computer, and pop it in the slot.

  The tape has been edited to show only the Riley clip. In other words, whatever happened before and after is not shown.

  But the tape shows everything that happened to Riley.

  In graphic detail.

  Since you’re not likely to ever see it, I’ll go through it for you, step-by-step, in Chapter 43. I won’t give vivid explanations of the most extreme parts, but I won’t omit them, either. I’ll explain what’s happening in a clinical, non-erotic way, wherever possible. But in the event you have no interest in hearing what’s on the tape, please skip Chapter 43 and go directly to Chapter 44.

  Riley told the truth.

  There are two camera angles, merged into a split-screen. The left side shows the view from the dresser, ten feet from the foot of Kelli’s bed. The right side shows an overhead view. If you want to see what happened in general, without the graphic detail, you can cover the right side of the screen.

  The cameras begin rolling when the light comes on, and what you see at the beginning is a young girl in pajamas, clearly Riley Freeman, entering the room. She stops a moment to sit on the corner of the bed. She’s holding her stomach. There is sound, but she’s silent, except for an occasional heavy sigh, as if she’s in mild discomfort. She leans her head down, hair covering her face, then puts her head in her hands.

  From the left camera you can see the bathroom door is open. Riley gets up on shaky legs, and makes her way to the bathroom, where she puts a hand against the wall to steady herself before entering. She goes in, and closes the bathroom door behind her.

  Since the lights are still on, the cameras continue to run. Minutes go by, without a sound. There is no sound of a toilet flushing, but I hear water running for a few seconds. Then it stops, and the door opens. As Riley comes out I notice a hand towel in her left hand that falls to the floor behind her. She staggers to the bed and sits there a minute, staring blankly. Then she slowly eases herself onto her right side, facing the bedroom door, and lies there fifteen seconds before scooting to the middle of the bed.

  When Riley gave me her explanation of these events, limited as it was, for some reason I envisioned her lying on her back the entire time. But that’s not what happened. She’s on her side, knees close to her stomach. Both cameras show her pajama shirt riding up slightly in the back, revealing approximately three inches of her lower back.

  She has not positioned herself in a sexy manner. In other words, if this had been staged, I would expect the presentation to be far more erotic.

  Within minutes, she’s clearly unconscious.

  Ethan Lied.

  By my count, six minutes pass before the door is opened. I’m expecting the light to go off and the camera to shut down, which would indicate Parker Page has entered the room to check on Riley. I study the video very carefully to see the break in the tape that shows the camera went off and then back on.

  To my surprise, the cameras continue to roll. There is no break or gap in the video because the light is never turned off. As further evidence the cameras have not stopped, I hear someone speaking just before the door opens. The voice is male, and melodic in a creepy sing-song way, as if he’s playing hide-and-seek. He says, “Ri-ley, oh Ri-ley! Where are you, Riley? Are you in here?”

  Two teenage boys, our own Ethan Clark and Ronnie English—enter the room. Ethan’s doing the talking.

  “Ri-ley,” he says, clearly inebriated. He notices her on the bed and says, “Well, what do we have here?”

  “Holy shit!” Ronnie says. “Dude!”

  “Ri-ley,” Ethan sings.

  He slaps her ass.

  “Damn!” he says. “She didn’t even move!”

  “No way!” Ronnie says.

  “Dude! Shut the door!”

  Ronnie does. Then, in a voice quivering with excitement, says, “Oh, my God! This is great. Wait. She’s probably faking.”

  “I don’t think so, man. Check this out.”

  The overhead camera shows Ethan shaking her shoulder. He says, “Dude, this is one fucked-up bitch!”

  “No way!”

  “You know what this is?” Ethan says. “A gift from God.”

  “Like sacrificing a virgin,” Ronnie says. “Except backwards.”

  Ethan looks at his friend and says, “Dude. You’re killing the mood with that shit. That is just weird.”

  “What if we’re being set up?”

  “It’ll be worth it!”

  “Man, I don’t trust anyone. Look under the bed.”

  “You look under the bed, asshole.”

  “Fine. But you should check the closet, just to be sure.”

  “I’ll check the bathroom, you check the closet.”

  Ronnie looks under the bed, then checks the closet. The left camera shows Ethan disappear into the bathroom a few seconds. Then he comes out and sits on the bed to Riley’s right, facing her back.

  “You know how many times I’ve checked out your ass, Miss Riley?” Ethan says.

  “A million times?” Ronnie offers.

  “A million and six.”

  “But you never saw it.”

  “No one has, I don’t think.”

  “She’s probably faking,” Ronnie says.

  “I can find out.”

  “Do it.”

  Ethan pauses. “Promise you won’t tell?”

  “Who the fuck would I tell?”

  “Ri-ley,” Ethan sings, “Last chance, baby doll. If you’re faking, tell me now, ’cause I’m gonna pull your pants down.”

  “Do it!” Ronnie says. “I dare you!”

  Ethan hesitates. Says, “I’ll leave it up to Riley.” He whispers, “Riley?” Then says, in a louder voice, “If it’s okay, don’t say a word. If you’re okay with me pulling your pants down, keep quiet. If you don’t want me to touch you, just say so.”

  Ronnie raises his voice an octave, imitating a girl. “Pull my pants down, Ethan!”

  “If you insist,” he says.

  Ronnie moves across the room to Ethan’s side. “Do it!” he whispers.

  “Check it out!” Ethan whispers back, as he slides her pants and panties down.

  “Oh, my God!” Ronnie says. “I’m gonna blow a load right here!”

  “Dude!” Ethan whispers. “Act like you’ve been here before. What’s your problem?”

  He says, “Go outside and guard the door.”

  “No way!”

  “Dude! Guard the fuckin’ door! We’ll take turns.”

  “How long till my turn?”

  “Five minutes.”

  “Bullshit! One minute.”

  “Two.”

  Ronnie says, “All right. Two. Then it’s my turn.”

  Ethan says, “Don’t rush the count.”

  Ronnie moves swiftly to the door, saying, “Want me to turn the lights off?”

  “No way, Man. I want to see what she’s been keeping from me all these years.”

  After further consideration…

  I’ve decided to sum up. Some things are better left unsaid. Here
’s the short version: over the next two-and-a-half minutes, Ethan pulls up Riley’s shirt, pulls her pants and panties down to her ankles, touches her, fondles her, performs oral.

  Then something happens.

  Riley starts to move.

  Ethan jumps back.

  Riley murmurs, “What are you doing?”

  Ethan whispers, “Shhh. Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

  He pauses while she seems to drift unconscious again. He uses his mouth again and she murmurs. “Don’t. Please. Please…stop.”

  Her words are hard to make out, because they seem to come from a far-away place. And yet, they’re clear enough to me, watching the video, which means Ethan had no problem hearing and understanding her.

  But he doesn’t stop. He says, “What did you say, baby? You like it? Huh? You like it? Well, I like it too! I like it a lot!”

  Riley murmurs something I can’t make out. Ethan says, “Oh, I’ll stop. Yeah, that’s right, baby, I’ll stop. When I’m good and ready!”

  The door opens. Ronnie comes in and says, “Holy shit, Dude! That’s enough! My turn.”

  Ethan looks up and says, “Can’t do it, man.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t let you do it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll let you see her. That’s only fair. But I can’t let you touch her.”

  “But—”

  “Sorry, Dude. Not gonna happen. It’s not cool.”

  “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

  “Close the door and come here. I’ll give you a quick look.”

  Ronnie closes the door, rushes back. “I’m taking pictures.”

  “Good idea.”

  Ethan says, “Want to see her snatch? Of course you do. Show him your snatch, Riley. Yeah, that’s right. Photo op!”

  They take several shots from different angles.

  Ethan says, “Check it out, Ron.”

  “Bingo!”

  They take another shot.

  “Boobs?” Ethan says. “Nice, right? Photo op!”

  He rolls her over.

  “It’s all nice, my man. From top to bottom. Wait. One more. Don’t be modest, Riley, you’re among friends. Photo op!”

  He pauses a second, then says, “Okay, you’re done, Ronald. Guard the door, I’ll get her dressed.”

  He does. Then takes a photo of her fully dressed, on her back. This is the photo Rick Hooper sent. I never would have believed Gavin’s claim that Ethan dressed her first, then took the picture, could possibly be true. Of course, Gavin never would have believed everything else his son did.

  Do I feel sorry for Gavin?

  I do, a little.

  No parent should have to see his son committing a sex crime.

  A minute goes by, then the tape cuts off.

  Bottom line?

  One, Parker was not involved. Two, Ethan committed sexual assault. Forcibly, since Riley clearly asked him to stop. Three, he also committed forcible oral sexual intercourse. Four, Ronnie is guilty of voyeurism.

  It’s clear why Riley didn’t want me to see the video. She knows I’d throw a fit, turn it over to the police, and demand jail time for Ethan. Of course, I can’t do that, having signed a non-disclosure and confidentiality agreement that covers anything and everything I heard, saw, handled, and learned through my conversations with Riley and Gavin.

  I feel sick for Riley.

  On the other hand, I know the stats. The majority of rapes in America go unreported. Convictions are hard to secure. And convicted rapists often spend less than four years in prison.

  Riley made the choice that works for her. Her charity will receive six million dollars, and I have no doubt she’ll put the money to good use. I also have no doubt she’ll fulfill the terms of her settlement with Gavin, and take the extra step of making sure he gets warm and fuzzy press coverage for his massive contribution.

  Monday.

  We’re sitting in a coffee shop, not far from Riley’s house, when I hand her the check.

  She glances at it, then studies my face.

  “Aw, shit, Dani.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You watched the video.”

  “I—Yes. I made a copy. I watched it, then destroyed it.”

  “You broke your promise.”

  “Yes.”

  “You may have also broken a law, since you knowingly viewed underage sex.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I had no prior knowledge there’d be sexual activity on that CD. Plus, this was my case, and you’re my friend and client.”

  “Client?”

  “My one-dollar client.”

  “Ah!” she says.

  Her face clouds up. “I’m sorry you saw that. It was pretty brutal stuff. That had to be hard on you.”

  “It was. But it would’ve been much worse had it been real.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought about it all weekend. And realized you set him up.”

  She looks at me oddly. Then, in a very polite, conversational tone, asks, “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s all too pat.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything.”

  “Name one.”

  “The timing window.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You had to wait till Kelli’s mom went to bed. You also had to count on her being unable to hear any possible activity, such as two semi-drunk teenage boys going up and down the steps and in and out of Kelli’s bedroom. So you couldn’t count on precise timing for that. Then, once the mom is down for the night, you have to coordinate getting the boys there, getting you into Kelli’s room, getting the boys into the house, into the basement, singling Ethan out, getting him, and as it turns out, Ronnie, up the stairs in time to find you passed out, on Kelli’s bed, and all this has to happen before Parker’s mom picks her up, or else Parker won’t be there to run interference on the rest of the gang in the basement.”

  “You don’t feel those few events could occur naturally?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe that’s because you’re looking at it as a conspiracy,” Riley says. “The timing issues only seem difficult because you’re trying to make them fit your theory.”

  “Got a better one?”

  “Yes, but it’s awfully simple.”

  “Tell me.”

  “If Mrs. Underhill didn’t happen to go to bed early, Kelli wouldn’t have let the boys come over. And none of this would have happened.”

  “But it did happen. And Parker was the key to all the timing issues. She got Ethan where he needed to be. Ronnie followed. She got them all worked up, told them about the sticker, dared them to find and photograph it.”

  She laughs. “You must have watched a different video. I don’t recall seeing Parker at all on the one I watched.”

  “Here’s the thing: you’re incredibly good. The whole Parker confession threw me off. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided the first part of Ethan’s story was true. I think she coordinated everything, right down to challenging them to find the sticker.”

  “I don’t recall them saying anything about finding the sticker on the video.”

  “Me either, and I think you got lucky with that, though no doubt, they were distracted. But remember near the end? When Ethan let Ronnie take pictures?”

  “What about it?”

  “There was a point when Ethan said, ‘Check it out, Ron,’ and Ronnie responded, ‘Bingo!’”

  “So?”

  “I couldn’t figure out why Ronnie would say ‘Bingo!’ Then it dawned on me he was talking about the sticker. The one he’d been told about.”

  “That’s quite a stretch.”

  “I agree, which is why I think you were lucky he didn’t come right out and say something like, ‘Parker was right! There it is!’”

  She smiles. “That’s your Ronnie impression?”

  I smile back. Then say, “Parker got them all worked up,
then went back to the party and told the others Ethan and Ronnie were outside, going through their cars for liquor.”

  “What motive would she have for doing all that?”

  “The ten thousand Gavin paid for her so-called confession?”

  “How on earth could she have known that would happen?”

  “She couldn’t. But it’s all I’ve got.”

  “Everything doesn’t have to fit into a neat little theory, Dani.”

  I think a moment. “You didn’t happen to offer Parker a job, did you? Working for your foundation? Assuming your plan worked and you were able to secure funding?”

  Riley smiles. “Parker’s extremely intelligent, and a hard worker. I would love to have her helping me. But she has plans for college.”

  “Kelli also had to be involved.”

  “How so?”

  “I think she found out about the cameras on her own some time ago, and told you Mitch had been secretly filming her. I think she wanted revenge, and you both planned it out. You picked Ethan because his father understood the law and because you had killer information regarding his birth certificate. And that’s another timing issue that bothered me. You kept that birth certificate information quiet until the negotiating phase. And while we’re on the subject, let’s not forget the on-again, off-again video you saved till the last possible second. Your closing argument, if you will.”

  “You make me sound like a mastermind.”

  “You are. And I’m in awe.”

  She takes a “let’s wrap this up” tone, saying, “Dani, I can always count on you for entertaining conversation. We should do this again sometime, after the legal system works out all the details.”

  “The photographs Dillon took.”

  “What about them?”

  “In the wee hours of Sunday morning I’m watching the video on the same computer that had the photos Dillon took of Kelli’s room. And it dawned on me how you made a point to get my attention focused on the first four photos, the ones he took with the flash. I didn’t get it at the time, but you were trying to get me to see the reflection of the camera lenses. You must have been disappointed in me that day. Of course, Fanny came through, so you didn’t have to come up with something more obvious.”

  Riley shrugs.

  I say, “And what about the CDs in Mitch’s room?”