Author: S.T. Abby
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/35444_13
His breath catches, and he stares at the phone with an almost unreadable look. Finally, he peers back up, his lips tense.
“That’s Jasmine.”
“Jasmine?” Donny asks.
“Jasmine Evans.”
He stands and grabs another DVD, this one lying in plain sight. He has several that look to be burned at home, all labeled.
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When he returns, he hands it to me.
“It’s from that play the year before she died. Everyone in the town was there. Both Evans kids were in it as well. Robert too. It was a big deal to the town, because it was the Founder’s Day play. It was the last year the town celebrated it.”
“Why?”
“The sheriff cancelled it the next year because of something that happened with some of his deputies. The year after that, he didn’t reinstate it. Same for the next. Soon it was a forgotten tradition.”
“What happened?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t have to.
He leans forward, looking me right in the eye. “The same thing that always happens when you have a bunch of men too close to power. They think the sheriff is invincible, and by proxy, so are they. I could give you a list of indiscretions a mile long, but on that particular day, it was a fire that was set. The deputies burned a house down with two people in it because they wouldn’t sell their property for the new town restaurant—a restaurant the sheriff put in after their untimely deaths.”
“What happened to the deputies?” Donny asks.
“Chad Briggs and his brother still work there. Founder’s day was cancelled. Deputies were not reprimanded. The fire was ruled as an accident. It was the catalyst into the corruption that only got worse. The people realized they had to do as ordered, or suffer the consequences. Soon, people just learned to pretend as though Delaney Grove was the sweet little hometown the rest of the world thought it was.”
“That’s why our unsub is using that music,” I say quietly to Donny.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Christopher Denver asks, expecting me to say it again a little louder.
“What did they do to Robert Evans?” I ask instead of answering him.
“You want those answers, you need to talk to someone who knows. That town wasn’t exactly sharing dirty secrets with the one man who tried to defend him.”
He leans back in his chair, studying us.
“Can you at least point us in the right direction?” Donny asks. “Tell us the name of someone who will talk?”
“I could tell you someone who would break easily if you leaned on him. But what good will it do to know?”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
He leans back up, his eyes narrowin
g. “You can hear all the stories you want. Eye witness testimonies mean dick against an entire police force and a judge. They mean even less when those witnesses disappear or decide to recant their statements.”
“We’ll find evidence,” I say, determined to put an end to this.
I called Collins. He told me the words of an old lady who didn’t even see all the corruption first hand won’t be enough to put the director or Johnson off this case. Then again, I already knew that.
My eyes flick to the console table near the window. There’s a tray of medicines there, and I look back to Denver. “Are you okay?”
His lips tense, and he darts a glance to the tray. “I’ve been sick for several months. Some days are better than others. You’re catching me on a good day,” he says, then grimaces. “I always hoped I’d have the chance to get my best friend some justice. The doctors aren’t even sure what exactly is wrong with me. Sometimes I think it’s my punishment for not getting Robert’s story out there where it could be heard better.”
“Then help us now, Mr. Denver,” I say softly, hating that I’m using a sick man’s guilty conscious against him, but desperate enough to do it all the same.
He studies me for a long moment before I see the concession in his eyes, deciding he has no choice but to trust me and hope for the best.
“Carl Burrows. He used to work at the coroner’s office.”