Jeremiah
FBI Agent Thomas Dickinson hadn’t said much since he’d walked into the room. If he thought long silences would get me to tell him something new, he was wrong. Not only was there nothing for me to tell him, I was no stranger to sitting in silence.
I could sit there all damned day without saying a word.
I stared at the tepid coffee someone had brought for me. It wasn’t even room temperature and tasted like dirty water. There was no cream or sugar either, not that I usually took either, but the coffee needed something. Some flavor would have been nice.
Dickinson took a sip from his own coffee before opening the file in front of him and passed it to me.
The detective was around my age, maybe a bit older. His hair had probably been dark at one point, but what was left was now all grey. Most of it was thinning out, which he tried to cover up, but there was just too little hair to do that. He wasn’t large enough to be physically intimidating, but I could imagine that his cold, patient stare was enough to make most people sweat under its scrutiny.
I glanced down at the file, but my lawyer snatched it away. Samuel Baker was a friend of mine since we’d gone to high school together. He also happened to be one of the best lawyers in Utah.
Sam frowned, the lines in his forehead deepening. He was the same age as me, but he looked older. A life filled with stress would do that to you. Give it a few more years, and chances are that the mayor’s office and single fatherhood would do the same to me.
Sam flipped through the file, shaking his head, then passed it back to the agent. I had no idea what was in it.
“Even if the body found was James, there’s no proof he was murdered. The autopsy report hasn’t come in yet, and it’ll likely be inconclusive.”
“They’re analyzing his dental records now. We’ll know for sure soon.” The agent closed the books. “And do you really think he died of natural causes?”
Dickinson watched me closely. I remained quiet. Sam had urged me silence throughout the interview. He answered for me. “Natural causes? Probably not. But suicide? Very likely.”
The detective snorted. “Right. That would be pretty convenient for your client, wouldn’t it? If the key whistleblower offed himself by driving himself into that lake.”
“There are many reasons he might have taken his own life, Agent Dickinson. And until you have something substantial, you can’t hold my client. We are free to leave.”
“Maybe we don’t have anything substantial about his death, yet. But as you know, the burden of proof for financial crimes is far less than that for murder.”
“And you still don’t meet that,” Sam said with a shrug. He picked up his briefcase and motioned for me to stand.
“We will soon. It would benefit your client to talk, tell us where he was the night of James’ disappearance.”
“I was at home with my daughters,” I said, speaking before Sam could stop me.
“And your daughters can’t collaborate, can they?”
“They’re only two months old, so no.”
“How convenient. How about their mother, would she be able to-”
“Their mother isn’t in the picture,” I snapped. “But I was at home with them. As I am every night.”
“You do realize that won’t hold up in court, right?”
“And you realize,” Sam interrupted, “that you don’t have enough evidence to even take him to court. Have a good day.”
Sam grabbed my arm, and the two of us left the interrogation room. I was shaking, but not from fear. My fists were balled up at my sides. I wanted to punch something. But I held it together.
“Follow me to my office. We need to talk,” Sam instructed.
We left the police station and headed for the parking lot.
I climbed into my truck and Sam pulled up next to me in his BMW. He waved and drove by, and I pulled out behind him. Liberty wasn’t that big of a town, so it only took five minutes to get to Sam’s office.
He hurried me inside, and the expression on his face worried me a bit. But he didn’t say anything until we were behind closed doors.
“I’m worried, Jeremiah,” he said softly, steeping his fingers in front of his face.
“About what?” I asked. “You said yourself, they don’t have enough evidence to go to trial.”
“Not for the murder case, no, but the financials…well, they do look bad. This is big enough to get the feds involved. Is there anything you need to tell me?”
“Of course not. I wasn’t taking bribes or paying anyone off.”
Sam studied me for a moment, then nodded. “I know. I know you’re not the type of man to do that, but we need to go over everything, make sure there’s nothing they can
question in your personal finances as well.”
My heart stopped. “Like what?”
“Like money that can’t be accounted for, both in and out.” I stared at Sam, and his frown became a scowl. “Jesus, Jeremiah, what’s that face for? Are you hiding something?”
“No, I mean-yes, but it’s not what you think. I’ve agreed to keep the identity of the mother of my children private. We have an arrangement.”
“Like a surrogacy?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I thought for a moment. “Sort of. But not completely. I covered all her medical bills and living costs while she was pregnant, and even after the babies were born for a bit. She needed my help.”
“That’s understandable,” he commented. “We’d just bring her in and-”
“No, we can’t. Like I said, she wants to remain anonymous.”
“Jeremiah, we might need her.”
I thought long and hard about this. She had reasons for not coming forward, reasons we both wanted her to remain a secret, none of which I could explain without giving her away.
“I don’t think it’s relevant. It shouldn’t come up.