by Neal Griffin
“Could you step out in the hallway for just a moment, sir?”
“What’s this about?” he asked, his voice full of doubt. “Does the office know you’re here?”
“Please, sir.” Tia looked at the twenty-five faces staring back at her. “It will just take a moment.”
Gosforth stared back for several seconds before turning to his students. “Class, take out your journals. Practice this week’s spelling words.”
He joined Tia and Rich in the hall, looking nervous.
“What on earth is this about?” He looked back and forth between Tia and Rich. Tia wasn’t surprised when he settled his eyes on Rich. “I asked if you checked in at the office.”
Rich seemed ready to respond and Tia stepped in front of him so that Gosforth would redirect his focus.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Tia said. “I’m Detective Tia Suarez, Newberg PD. This is Officer Puller.” Though Tia kept her voice low, it still seemed to echo down the empty hallway. “I wonder if there might be someplace we could go to talk? Just for a few minutes.”
“Ah, Detective Suarez.” Gosforth nodded knowingly. “Now it makes sense. I was told I might hear from you. I was also told you could be a bit pushy.”
Tia was thrown off, but only for a moment. “How so?”
“I received an email from Reverend Mills.” He hesitated. “Well, I’m not sure it was actually from Reverend Mills, but someone at the Church of the Rock.”
“Really? I’m curious what it said.”
“Just that my name, everyone’s name, I suppose, had been released to the Newberg Police Department as part of an investigation of some sort. About that body found in the woods. Turns out he killed himself, isn’t that right?”
“Still investigating, but like I said,” Tia looked up and down the hallway lined with miniature lockers, “is there someplace we can talk?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Detective. I’m afraid I can’t help you. I was at the campground for less than two days before the retreat was canceled. I certainly don’t have any knowledge of that boy.”
“He was from Rock County, sir. Lived just about twenty miles from here. Were you aware of that?”
“Well, yes, I did hear that, actually. But I’m afraid I still can’t help you.”
“You’d be surprised, sir. Sometimes very small pieces of information that don’t seem to be related lead to things that are.”
“I’m sorry, Detective. But if I do think of anything, perhaps you could leave me with a card?”
“I really think we should talk, sir.” Tia didn’t want to play her whole card. At least not this early and right here in the middle of the man’s workplace. “Is there a better time for you?”
“I’m going back to my students. Have a good day, Detective.”
Oh well, Tia thought. I tried.
“Mr. Gosforth, about your arrest in Platteville.” He wheeled around like a spinning top, and Tia watched as the blood immediately drained from his face. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt. “I wonder if you could tell me the exact circumstances of the offense. That was, what? Three years ago?”
Gosforth looked up and down the empty hallway before replying, and when he spoke, his voice was low and his mouth barely opened. “How did you know about that?”
“Sir,” Tia lowered her voice as well, “we’re police officers. It wasn’t hard. Now really, can we just find someplace that’s private? I’m sure this can all be cleared up.”
“There’s nothing to clear up.” Gosforth looked back at Tia, his chin quivering but his voice steady. “I told you, Detective. I can’t help you.”
Tia looked at Rich. She didn’t like the idea of teaching the trainee how to twist the knife so early in his career but then again, he’d have to learn at some point. “Well, Mr. Gosforth, that’s too bad, because I’ll bet you have gone through a lot of effort to keep that situation in Platteville quiet. I’m guessing your wife doesn’t know anything about it. Probably not those cute little girls of yours either. What are they? Eight? Nine? Twins, right?”
“How did you—”
“By the way, pleading to disorderly? That was smart.” Tia nodded, maintaining a cool stare. “Situation like that, you could have ended up a sex offender. There’d be no hiding that, would there? That could have played hell on a teaching career.”
Gosforth looked at his wristwatch and Tia saw that his hands were shaking. “I can’t leave campus right now. I have to finish the day. I’ll meet you at the Cracker Barrel in one hour.”
“Is that here in town?”
“God, no.” He came off desperate. “This is a small town, Detective. If anyone sees me talking to you…” He looked up and down the hallway again. “Take the 14N six miles past the city limits. Like I said, I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Great, Mr. Gosforth. We’ll get this cleared up.” Tia offered her hand. “I really appreciate your cooperation.”
The teacher looked at her hand as if ready to spit on it. “I’m not cooperating. You’re blackmailing me and I don’t appreciate it.” He drew himself up, turned away, and walked back into his classroom.
Rich hadn’t said a word through the entire exchange, just watched, wide-eyed.
“I know that wasn’t cool,” Tia said. “But sometimes you have to help people along a bit.”
“So now what?”
Tia looked at her watch. “We got an hour. Let’s do some recon work.”
TWENTY-NINE
Making productive use of their downtime, Tia had Rich drive to both addresses that might be listed as target locations for future search warrants.
“I don’t get it,” Rich said as he followed Tia’s directions to Gosforth’s house. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves? I mean, the guy has an interesting prior and seemed a little evasive, but a search warrant? At his house?”
Tia looked back and forth between the street signs and the directions on her phone. She was really starting to warm up to Rich and she liked the fact that he asked good questions. “You’re right,” she said. “We’re a long way from crashing his door or anything like that, but we’ve got some downtime, so why not use it? And, if things heat up and all of a sudden we’re looking to hang paper on him, we’ve got our description and flicks ready to go. Beats having to do a hasty scout on the fly when the bad guy’s already hinked.”
Rich looked across the seat. “What the hell did you just say?”
Tia laughed. “Slow down. Here’s the house.”
Tia had Rich pass by slowly while she used her cell phone to take pictures of the cookie-cutter single-story ranch-style home. She scribbled out notes for the physical description that would be part of the potential warrant. She noted the shingle roof, location, and construction of the front door and the prominent numbers affixed to the house that identified the street address. After that, they swung by the New Hope Church and did the same thing. Tia had trouble imagining circumstances that would lead to the church being listed in a warrant, but it was good to know where it was.
They stopped in at the Evansville PD out of professional courtesy, to let the watch commander know they were in his town on follow-up, but not expecting any problems or a need for assistance. The WC was a thirty-year career cop out of Rockford working on a second pension. As Tia spoke, he barely looked up from his copy of Maxim, wise enough not to ask for any more details than the out-of-town cops willingly provided. Tia had always figured that strategies to maintain plausible deniability was a mandatory course of instruction in most police commander training courses.
They pulled into the Cracker Barrel parking lot fifteen minutes early and walked in to find Gosforth already sitting in a booth deep in the back corner of the restaurant.
“What the hell?” Tia stood in the gift shop with the faux–log cabin decor. The restaurant was about half full of mostly senior citizens enjoying an early dinner. “Come on, Rich. Let’s go see what this is about.”
With his bac
k to the wall, Robert Gosforth stared straight ahead. His hands looked clammy with sweat, knotted together like a nervous ball of energy on the table. Next to him was a second man, who was talking directly into Gosforth’s ear. Balding and wearing a rumpled suit, the man was pushing sixty, Tia figured. A leather satchel sagged on the floor at his feet. He stopped talking and sat up straight as the Newberg cops approached.
“Hey, Mr. Gosforth. What gives?” Tia said, playing innocent though she knew exactly what was up.
The lawyer did his best to take charge, pointing to the empty side of the booth. “Have a seat, Detective.”
“You got a name, Counselor?”
“Have a seat.”
“Funny name.” Tia slid into the booth and nodded for Rich to do the same. She looked at Gosforth. “I would’ve thought you’d want to keep this just between us, Robert.”
Gosforth swallowed hard; his gaze darted around the restaurant, but he said nothing.
The older man responded, “Phillip Myers, attorney at law. I represent Mr. Gosforth. What is it you wish to discuss with my client?”
“Well, Mr. Myers,” Tia said, remembering the name that Sam had provided. “You get around, don’t you? I think you actually represent Church of the Rock, right?”
When Myers didn’t bite, she looked across the booth and did her best to sound disappointed. “Really Robert? A lawyer? For what?”
Myers put his hand on his client’s arm. “Mr. Gosforth will not be answering any questions. The reason I’m here, Detective, is to inform you that if you capriciously divulge this man’s criminal history to anyone I will see to it that you’re held to answer for it.”
“How’s that?” Tia knew exactly what the attorney was talking about, but she was going to make him spell it out. She listened to Myers but stared at Gosforth, who refused to look back.
“If Mr. Gosforth’s criminal history becomes public knowledge, he will no doubt suffer significant damages. Not only personal and professional embarrassment, but very real financial damages. If that happens, I will see to it that you’re held liable.” He paused and Tia saw his mouth turn up in a bit of a smirk. “Well, perhaps not you personally. I don’t think you’d be able to afford the amount. But your department has deep pockets.”
“Not as deep as you probably think.”
“Deep enough, Detective, but trust me when I say you don’t want to find out.”
Tia pushed back, still staring across the table at Gosforth: “So it’s my fault if, say, the school principal decides to do a random criminal history check on all teachers?”
Gosforth let out a small gasp and leaned in as if to speak. Myers squeezed his arm. “Be quiet, Robert.”
He stared at Tia. “Yes. That would be your responsibility, because it would not be random. And, based on what Mr. Gosforth has told me about your hallway threats, I’m comfortable that I could prove that in a courtroom.”
“Threats?” Tia clicked her tongue and looked across the table. “Robert, did you actually feel threatened?”
Myers leaned in closer, raising his voice. “You talk to me, Detective.”
Tia finally looked at him. “I didn’t threaten Mr. Gosforth. I’m conducting an investigation into the death of a young man from Rock County. Mr. Gosforth was in the vicinity at the time of death and he’s from Rock County. It’s not complicated. It’s called an investigative lead.”
“First off, it’s my understanding that case has been ruled a suicide. And secondly, for the record, Mr. Gosforth is under no obligation to answer your questions, nor is he required to explain a long-ago misdemeanor conviction. He has a right to privacy.”
“It’s public record, sir,” Rich said. Tia started to kick him under the table but stopped herself. He’d earned his seat.
“And,” Tia said, “it really wasn’t that long ago. Three years, right, Robert? How old were your girls then? Seven? Eight, maybe?”
Gosforth seemed close to becoming physically ill. He turned to his attorney. “Oh my God, Phillip, maybe we should—”
“Robert, shut up.” He locked his gaze on Tia. “Public record or not, if that information comes into the possession of his employer or any member of Mr. Gosforth’s family, I will assume that happened through your actions and that your intent was retribution. We’ll let the court decide the propriety of it. Now, I’m not sure what kind of fishing expedition you’re on, but it will not involve my client. Am I making myself clear?”
“Mr. Gosforth,” Tia said. “This is unnecessary. I just have a few—”
Myers pulled himself to his feet. “Come with me, Robert.”
“Robert,” Tia said, freezing the teacher in place halfway out of the booth. He looked at her, his expression fearful and uncertain. “We’ll see you again another time.”
Myers drove his finger closer to Tia’s face than she liked. “This man is represented by counsel, Detective. You’ll be wise to remember that.”
“Knock it off, Myers,” Tia said, still seated and basically trapped in the booth. She knocked his hand away. “Mr. Gosforth is not accused of a crime, so you know as well as I do that right to counsel doesn’t attach. And when it does, he’s the only one who can invoke. Not you.”
Tia looked at Gosforth, who was now standing. “And if you do decide to hide behind a lawyer, Robert? You’ll need a better one than this mouthpiece.”
Taking Gosforth by the elbow, Myers steered him away. “We’re done here.”
“You’re right,” Tia said. “For now.”
Attorney and client walked away. Tia sat in silence for a moment. She felt the weight of Rich beside her; they were sitting close enough that she sensed the rise and fall of his breathing.
“Hey, Rich?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think this is weird?”
Rich laughed, then slid out of the booth and moved to the other bench. Tia smiled. “Much better. Thanks.”
“I guess I got us all spun up for nothing,” Rich said. “I thought this might pan out.”
“Are you kidding? We rattled his cage, big-time. He didn’t lawyer up for nothing.”
“Okay,” Rich said. “So now what?”
Tia pulled out her phone and banged out a quick text to Livy, thinking back on their recent conversation. Livy replied immediately with a thumbs-up emoji.
“We follow the money, Rich,” Tia said. “Come on, let’s go home.”
THIRTY
Back at Newberg PD, Tia cut Rich loose in the parking lot. Before they parted, she told him not to feel bad about the fact that Gosforth had lawyered up. He’d done some great police work and his background intel on Gosforth was their best lead so far. The guy was hinked up about something. He might just turn out to be the nervous type around cops, but Tia had a good feeling about it.
At her desk, Tia wrote up a report covering the day’s activity and emailed it to Travis for approval. She checked her email inbox and saw an incoming message from one of the cell service providers. She opened it hoping it was a quick response to the warrant. It was.
The body of the email was filled with references to privacy issues, non-disclosure warnings and other legal-ese. Tia skimmed the email but knew from prior experience, what she wanted to see would be in the attached document. She clicked on it and opened the one-page excel spreadsheet. As she’d anticipated there had been very limited cell activity at that particular time and location. Since the judge had only authorized a single night of activity, the spreadsheet listed fewer than a dozen calls. She immediately scanned the document for the phone number that had made the 911 call, but it wasn’t there. Tia did recognize Jimmy Youngblood’s number, which appeared several times. She also saw calls from Livy’s phone. There were a few other numbers Tia didn’t recognize, which were most likely passing motorists or maybe someone from the campground. Running the calls down would be good training for Rich. She double-checked her email to make sure no other providers had responded. Nothing yet.
It was coming up on five b
ut she figured she could justify an early exit. If she left now, she and Connor could have a couple of hours together before he went to work at the Pig. It had been a long day but she felt energized by what she thought was good progress. Even after the bullshit press conference, she had managed to stay in the good graces of both Carla and Sam Mills. She figured that could prove useful down the road. The hell with the senior Mills and she wasn’t the least bit concerned with what the little minion of a mayor might think. Most of all, Tia was confident the Gosforth lead had legs. The case was moving forward and her chief had her back. Yeah, she thought. A good day’s work.
Not to mention, she thought, congratulating herself, you turned forty. It was the longest streak of complete sobriety Tia could remember since the shooting that killed one cop and nearly killed her.
Passing the desk Rich had been using, she noticed the list of retreat staff, along with several pages of printouts—the computer background checks that Rich had completed. Tia perched herself on the corner of the desk and flipped through the sheets.
Once again, she found herself impressed with his thorough work. Rich had run every name through the CHRIS database, the Wisconsin DMV, and a few public record sites. He’d turned up plenty of traffic violations and even two DUI’s. Several of the retreat staffers had financial troubles, including foreclosures and bankruptcies. Tia laughed out loud when she saw that Eva Davis had a prior arrest for shoplifting at the Walmart in Sheboygan. The pious camp cook had a rap sheet.
Tia had to give Eva credit, though—she’d included her own name on the list. That thought got Tia looking for two other names, but neither appeared. Curious, she returned to her own desk, sat down, and pulled up the criminal history screen.
She typed in the name Sam Mills, and added a few other parameters to try to zero in on what was a pretty common name. Listing his race and estimated age, and giving Milwaukee as his city of residence, still left her with more than fifty possibilities. A few had significant arrests, but their physical descriptions and ages weren’t close to the Sam Mills she was interested in.
