by Tom Fowler
"What's the meaning of this?" Rodgers said, standing and banging his desk.
Peter Rodgers," Norton said, "you're under arrest for possession of narcotics, distribution of narcotics, theft, conspiracy to distribute narcotics, and conspiracy to commit murder."
"This is outrageous! I run a legitimate charity."
"You killed Jim Shelton," Rich said. He stood nose-to-nose with Rodgers. "Jim was my friend. I would love it if you'd resist arrest." Rich clenched and unclenched his hands into fists. Norton stared at him and frowned.
"If he starts beating that guy," I said to Norton, "you'll have to pull him off."
"You wouldn't?"
I shook my head. "He's an asshole. He deserves a pummeling."
"We won't let him get pounded."
"Pity," I said.
Rodgers didn't resist. He put his hands up. Rich stayed in his face until Norton tapped his shoulder. Only then did he relent. Norton and his troopers arrested Rodgers and led him outside. Rich and I followed with Luke. Back in the Jeep, I said, "I was hoping you'd hit him."
"It was tempting," said Rich. "I'm not sure I could have stopped."
"I wouldn't have pulled you off."
"Really?" Rich said.
"Really."
"I knew I brought you for a reason."
***
Norton and another trooper stayed behind while the rest of the convoy left with Pete Rodgers. He spent a couple minutes on the phone with a counterpart in West Virginia. We leaned on the Jeep and waited. When he hung up, Norton came down and talked to us. "They got the brother," he said, "plus a few other guys."
"What about the mayor?" I said.
"Being questioned. We don't know what his involvement is."
"And the sheriff?" Rich said.
Norton shrugged. "No evidence that he or his men took part," he said.
"The mayor might have ordered them around," I suggested.
"Then if it happened, it's on the mayor and those deputies."
Norton shook hands with us, then departed with his fellow trooper. "You have everything you need for the story?" I said to Luke.
"I think so." He nodded. "There's a version online already. I'll add some more details to it. The new version will go on the site later and out in the paper tomorrow morning."
"Remember us when you're a big-timer."
He smiled. "I like it at the Republican. This city and county are more my speed than a place like Baltimore."
"I'll look for your Pulitzer acceptance speech, then," I said.
"I'll start drafting it tomorrow," Luke said. He drove us back to his house, where we picked up our stuff, then to his brother's garage to get Rich's car. From there, we stopped at the motel. The fellow behind the desk wanted to charge us for another night, but a look at Rich's badge and glare changed his mind. We collected Rich's stuff and pulled onto 219. He drove to the Shelton house. I waited in the car while he talked to Connie at the door. They chatted for a few minutes. Connie's head bowed and her shoulders shook. Rich hugged her and held it while she cried on his shoulder. After the tears passed, they talked for another minute and embraced again.
Rich got back in the car. "I think they'll be OK," he said.
"Good. What about money?"
"I'm sure they'll sue Rodgers for wrongful death, if nothing else."
"You know," I said, "I could get back into his bank records. It would only take a few minutes to reallocate some of his money."
"No," Rich said. "The state police are all over this. We can't have an irregularity now."
"OK."
"You understand?"
"Not really," I said, "but I'll go along to get along."
"Thanks." Rich pulled out of the neighborhood. A couple minutes later, we turned onto 219 to start the drive back home.
***
The next morning, I got the call I expected. "Hi, Mom."
"Coningsby, your father and I read what you and Richard did in Garrett County," she said. Yes, Coningsby is my real first name. It's a family name on my mother's side. Why I go by my initials is obvious. The fact my mother insists on not using them is annoying.
"Don't tell me you read a newspaper called the Republican," I said. "You'll be a pariah at the rotary club."
"The Sun picked up the story, dear. No one at the rotary club will know."
"What a relief."
"I'm not sure I like the idea of Richard recruiting you," my mother said. "I know he did it for his friend's family, so I guess the right people got the help they needed in the end."
"They did," I said.
"And you brought that awful organization down."
"It's a shame. Land of the Brave started out doing good work. I wish they just stuck with it. They could have helped a lot of people."
"Maybe someone will try again," she said. I wondered if my parents' foundation would look for opportunities in Garrett County. It was the kind of thing they would do.
"Maybe they will."
"Your father and I will draft you a paycheck later today. Good work, Coningsby."
"Thanks, Mom," I said.
"Make sure you call Gloria. She's a nice girl."
"I will."
We hung up. A few other calls came in. I ignored them. An article like the one in the Sun always spiked my inquiries in the short term. Most of them could be safely dismissed. I didn't want to take a new case now, anyway. My shoulder and back still hurt from falling through the carport and having the ceiling collapse on me. I would need a few days to recover physically, and maybe longer to recover mentally.
I pushed the memory out of my mind and texted Gloria.
THE END
The C.T. Ferguson Mysteries
The Reluctant Detective (novel, available on Amazon)
The Confessional (free novella)
The Unknown Devil (novel, available on Amazon)
Land of the Brave (free novella)
While this is the reading order, you may enjoy the books in whatever order you read them.
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C.T. will return circa late May 2018!
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This book is a work of fiction. Places are either fictitious or used in a fictitious manner. Characters are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
While this novella is obviously fiction, there are many legitimate charities out there doing great work for veterans and service members. If you have the means and are so inclined, I encourage you to make a donation to one. You can see a list of such charities right here.