Firetrap (25 page)

52. THE TAPE

TREY
>

Rumble was half asleep in front of the big-screen television when I hung up my fire department coat in the hallway, took off my department boots, and padded in stocking feet past the TV and the little dojo I'd built into a corner of the basement. “Anybody call?”

“Not that I heard. You expecting a call?”

I picked up the remote and muted the television. “You seen Johnny?”

“No.”

“Engine Six called. I had to go over there. He got beaned by some cops. I told him to stay home tonight and stay out of the rioting, so if he shows up, he's not supposed to be here.”

“Fuckin' cops. He all right?”

“He'll make out. I think he was more embarrassed than anything. He's kind of sweet on Estevez.”

“So am I. When am I going to meet her?”

“I'll set you up on a blind date right after she's through with Denzel Washington.”

“Is Denzel in town?”

I went upstairs as the sound returned to the television, poured myself a glass of water, and inserted the small cassette that India had given me into my own machine. There was a message from a city councilwoman asking Stone about a meeting they were to convene next week and one from India's mother. Then I heard Stone's voice, and it took a few moments to realize he hadn't been calling from outside the house but had accidentally recorded an incoming call, as can happen when you let the recorder pick up and then change your mind and start speaking to your caller on a second connected line. India had intercepted the tape before it got erased. Near as I could tell Stone was talking to Barry Renfrow.

“Yeah. Thought I'd check in. I got that info. They're definitely going after the owners of the club. Yesterday he called the King County assessor's office and then the city attorney's office. He's already got Silverstar Consolidated's name. It's only a matter of time before he finds out Overby owns Silverstar and has been funding your gubernatorial campaign and getting special favors in return. The direction he's taking isn't good. And we both know this isn't some kid you can intimidate. He's a captain in the fire department. He comes up with certain facts and people are bound to believe him. The whole city's watching these two investigate, and the worst part is, I don't know what the hell he's going to do next. We've got to figure out some way to control this report so it doesn't make us look bad.”

“Just keep an eye on Captain Brown, and let me know what he's doing.”

“It might be too late by the time we see what he's up to. I think something needs to be done now.”

“Something harsh?”

“You can't treat a guy like this with kid gloves.”

“Don't worry about it. I have an inside source. When things start to get too scary, she'll let me know and then I'll let you know.”

“But, Stone—”

“Christ, Barry, I'm late for a ball game with my kids. Okay. Have it your way. Stop him. Maybe you can distract him or something. Get him a white woman. A fat one. All the black guys seem to go for that. Overby
has raised a lot of money so I can be the next governor, and we don't need some hero messing it up by digging up the truth about Silverstar and our connection to the Z Club. But keep my name out of it. Keep my campaign out of it. Keep Harlan Overby out of it. Hell, Barry, you've been doing this for years. And I don't care if you have to hurt him. Listen, my boys are waiting with the bodyguard out at the car.”

“Later, then.”

“Yeah.”

My guess was Stone Carmichael's very considerable political aspirations were finished. Nobody in the black community, or any community for that matter, was going to vote for the man on that tape. The particulars of the cover-up or even the reason for it had little relevance compared to the fact that Stone was involved and was actively talking about concealing information related to the Z Club. With one hand he was commissioning a second Z Club study, and with the other he was essentially putting out some sort of hit on me. It was the very fact that he was conspiring to limit our investigation that would finish him politically. Once this tape was made public, the media dogs would tackle him with bared teeth. Anything Estevez and I hadn't already uncovered would be dug up in a matter of days.

Now we knew Silverstar Consolidated was footing the bills for Stone's gubernatorial bid, and in turn, Stone Carmichael had done something, God knows what, to make certain Silverstar Consolidated didn't take any of the responsibility for those fourteen deaths at the Z Club. One thing they'd apparently done was use some prestidigitation to coerce McDonald, the former owner, to pretend he still owned it. Anything to keep the heat off the real owner. It seemed simple enough and even silly, but the first investigation had bypassed the question of ownership—with or without coercion by the mayor's office—and we might easily have overlooked it, too. It was a small thing unless you were Silverstar Consolidated. Or Overby, who owned Silverstar Consolidated. Or Carmichael, who obviously was in on some of the corner-cutting. Stone had mentioned an insider who was giving him information. I wondered if he was talking about Miriam Beckmann—or was it someone even closer to the investigation?

Unplugging my machine, I carried it downstairs and once again picked up the remote so that I could silence the television. “What the hell!” Rumble said. “That's two times in five minutes. Have some consideration, would you?”

“Listen. I'm going to play something for you, but I want to swear you to secrecy. This is serious shit.” Rumble sat up in the recliner, which for him was the equivalent of a cadet standing and saluting a general.

“What?”

“I'm going to play this in my machine and then make a copy. I want you to keep the copy at your place. I don't want to know where.”

“Okay. You know where that—”

“Didn't I just say I didn't want to know where?”

“I wasn't going to tell you.”

“The hell. You were already telling me.”

“What's going on?”

I played it for him and watched his face change. When the tape was finished, he said, “Who's talking?”

“The first voice belongs to a man named Barry Renfrow. The second belongs to our illustrious mayor.”

“Carmichael? You're shittin' me. How'd you get this?”

“You keep this tape under your hat, and I might let you in on the rest.”

“Come on, Trey. Tell me.”

“I would if you could keep a secret.”

“Shit, Trey. The mayor would have to resign if this ever came out. And the bullshit in the streets we've been seeing? Hell, people'd be flying in from all over the country just to throw rocks at city hall. The situation in Seattle's going to be on
20/20
next week. Trey, you've gotta get this to
20/20.
You gotta—”

“We're doing this on our timetable, not by the
TV Guide.
”

“Yeah. Sure. But Christ almighty. This is going to be explosive.”

53. THE OLD MAN MAKES A TOUGH BUT NECESSARY CALL

STONE CARMICHAEL, NINETEEN YEARS EARLIER
>

I remember getting pissed at the old man when I was nine and throwing a rock through our living room window, playing dumb, conning him into thinking it was the neighbor kid. Funny how people can be blind when it suits their needs…yet it was the last time I ever conned the old man. Since then, he's learned to read me like a book.

So now Echo's come home and incited a near riot in the great room, and I've gotten here just behind her, and somehow I've managed to place the blame for all this on Trey, convinced everyone in the room Trey was her attacker, maybe even convinced Echo. But then after Echo and her mother leave the room, I sweep my gaze across the faces and for a fraction of a second I catch my father looking at me, and when our eyes collide I realize he knows somebody's been lying, and it injects a needle of fear through the center of my heart. I try to pretend I haven't noticed, and so does Father, who ignores me for a while, speaking quietly to Harlan in the corner, Harlan and Elaine, who are both ready to lynch Trey.

A search of the house is mounted for Trey, but his room is empty, and it's pretty clear he's still outside wandering around in the dark. As we wait for the confrontation in the great room, tension builds. A few think he's afraid to come in, afraid to face what he's done, while I'm getting more and more nervous because of Father. He knows part of it, but I'm not sure which part.

Renfrow, who's been sent out to scout the cottage and look for Trey, comes back alone and talks to Father in the hallway just outside the great room.

People are in various stages of disbelief, Kendra, my mother, Elaine, Harlan, India, and Renfrow's creepy girlfriend. Echo is off somewhere sedated and trying to sleep. Mother is trying to persuade Elaine that the attack must surely have been perpetrated by a stranger, but Elaine believes her daughter and is having none of it. Mother is good at papering over reality with her own view of the world, but it's not going to work here.

After Renfrow and Father confer, a red-faced Father steps into the great room and says, “Stone, can I see you a moment?”

I know that tone. I get up and follow Father into the library down the hallway, where Renfrow is already waiting. They remain standing but insist I have a seat on a sofa. I continue to harbor the faintest glimmer of hope that this isn't going to be what I think it is, that maybe we're here to talk about some bearded stranger or they are merely trying to confirm Trey is the guilty party. Portly, bowlegged, and dogged, Renfrow stands with his hands behind his back and looks out the window into the black night. Our little skiff bangs against the dock outside.

“Look at me,” Father says. “Look at me when I'm speaking to you.”

“Sir.”

“You damn well better call me
sir.
”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can tell whatever wild-ass story comes to your mind out there in front of the Overbys, but in here you're going to speak the truth. You understand? Echo lied, didn't she?”

“No, sir. She told the God's honest truth. I mean, I guess she told the truth. After all, I wasn't there. I just saw him leaving.”

“One more asinine comment out of you, and I'm going to call the county sheriff and he'll do the rest of the questioning. What happened between you and Echo?”

“Nothing.”

Father walks over to the telephone, picks up the receiver, and begins to dial.

“Okay. It was an accident. I was drunk.”

“What was an accident?”

“We had…we had sex.”

“Echo, the daughter of my best and oldest friend? She's only fifteen years old, for Christ's sake! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I know. I can't believe it myself.” When neither Renfrow nor my father says anything further, I add, “It seems like a nightmare. It really does, sir. I'm so upset over it, I can hardly keep a straight thought in my head. I don't know what happened.”

“You don't know what happened?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, you better tell me how it happened right now, or I'm going back to that telephone. Spit it out.”

“This is kind of embarrassing,” I say, glancing at Renfrow.

“Not as embarrassing as a rape trial. Spit it out before I come over and knock it out of you. Goddamn you!”

“I…India and I've been having problems. I came back early to straighten them out. You know I was supposed to work another week in L.A. Tonight I wanted…to spend some time with her, but she said she had an upset stomach and went up to bed early. Later, I sneaked in with a rose and a little glass of wine, thinking it would make her feel better. But she wasn't there.”

“Finish the story, Stone. In case you haven't realized it, there are people out in the other room waiting to put a gun to your head.”

“Yes, sir. Echo and Kendra were downstairs watching a movie, but India should have been in her room. When I went downstairs and asked about her, Echo said she had something to show me. That was when she walked me out to the old gardener's cottage. I thought Echo was trying to get romantic. She's had a crush on me forever. You know that.”

“No, I didn't. Is that how all this happened? Because she had a crush on you?”

“It's more complicated.”

“Go on.”

“I don't know what she thought we were going to find at the gardener's cottage, but evidently she knew or suspected Trey and India were out there. We saw them through the window.”

“Trey and India?”

“Rutting like a couple of dogs in heat.”

“Trey and—”

“Like dogs in heat. I didn't know what to do. I was crazy for a few minutes there. And still drunk. We just sat in the grass, stunned. Then India left the cottage, heading for the house, and Trey went down toward the beach. Neither of them saw us.”

“And that's when you saw Trey leaving the cottage?”

“Yes, sir. I wanted to go into the cottage. I don't know why. To see where they'd been. To look for proof so I could throw it in their faces. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Echo came with me. I didn't want her to, but she did. I was nuts really. And drunk, like I said. I'm still a little drunk. She started coming on to me. I'm not saying she wanted to sleep with me, but I'm not saying she didn't, either. Looking back on it…I'm not sure what she was thinking. But we started kissing. And then the next thing I knew, she was fighting. She popped me in the mouth a good one, and I got mad and then…well, you know the rest.”

“Actually, I don't. Finish your story.”

“Is he…” I say, gesturing at Renfrow.

“This is confidential. He won't repeat any of it.”

“Echo and I…well, what happened…we had sex. Afterward, Echo got up and got dressed and ran out of there. I started chasing her. I was hoping to catch her before she got to the house so I could try to talk some sense into her. I don't think either one of us had any idea everybody was still up. I think she just stumbled into that crowd out there and then had a hard time coming up with a story.”

“Unlike you. You didn't have a hard time coming up with a story, did you?”

“It was true. I did see him leave the cottage. What I left out was I saw India leave, too.”

“Why didn't India say something? No. Don't answer that. She's not going to be anxious to announce to everybody she was out there getting sexed by Trey. Especially when you and she are practically engaged. You realize we're in a bit of a bind now, don't you, Stone?”

“You're not going to tell them it was me, are you?”

“They want blood. Right now they want the blood of my son.”

“Give them Trey. He's adopted.”

Father gives me a disappointed look. “For that comment I should drag you out there right now and help Harlan beat the living hell out of you. I can't believe you even said that. You're both my sons, goddamn it. And don't you ever forget that.”

“No, sir. But—”

“Just shut up a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Boy, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I don't know.”

“You
weren't
thinking.”

“No, sir. I was blind drunk.”

“Don't bullshit me. I've been drunk more times than you've played with your pecker, and I can tell you right now, nobody's
ever
that drunk.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell are we going to do? Harlan is out there expecting some sort of resolution, and I can't let him take all his anger out on Trey. All Trey's guilty of is seducing your girlfriend. Or maybe she seduced him. Hell, the only reason I got evidence before Harlan was I made a deal with Barry to keep whatever he found at the cottage confidential until he spoke to me about it. He said he found evidence there had been two couples out there. And probably not at the same time. But then, I already knew you were lying. I just couldn't figure out what happened.”

Renfrow doesn't bother to glance away from the window. Standing there, he's looking like a pretty good imitation of a wooden Indian, getting paid twice for his dirty work, once from Echo's father and once from mine. Father is shouting now. “I asked you what the hell we are going to do now!”

“I don't know!” I shout back.

“Shit, Stone. It was bad enough we lost Shelby, but now you have to go and pull a stupid stunt like this. It's going to kill your mother. You know that, don't you? If it was Trey, like you said, it might not be so bad. It would be bad, but not
as
bad. She's resented Trey in her heart all along, but this is going to kill her, and it's going to kill me, too. You're her last natural son.” Father sits on a stool in front of the sofa and drops his face into his hands. I've never seen him this distraught, not even when Shelby died. “Jesus, we have so much at stake. It's not only the family stuff. I mean, hell, we've been friends thirty years, but all the business we've got going together this year. Do you know how bad he could shaft us if this doesn't come out right? I know Harlan, and if he thinks we've hurt his family, he'll put the screws to all of us. It's the way his mind works. It's one thing if he thinks Trey did it. He's been against my adopting Trey since the beginning. But when he finds out it was blood…”

“We could—”

“Shut up! Let me think.” I've never seen Father in such a foul mood, but this is nothing compared to the state Harlan Overby will erupt into when he learns the truth. “God, this is a mess,” Father says. “I don't know what to do. Goddamn you, Stone. I cannot lose two boys in one summer. Your mother cannot lose two boys in one summer.” When he looks up, Father is crying. I don't believe I've ever seen him cry. “Okay. Let's think this through.”

Father keeps his face in his hands for a long time. I can hear the grandfather clock ticking in the corner. Finally he pulls a neatly folded handkerchief out of his jacket pocket, unfurls it, and mops his face. “I've got two sons left and I love you both. I do. But you, you son of a bitch, have put me in a position no father should ever be in. You're intelligent, and you've finished law school with honors, and you could have gone anywhere. Then there's Trey…everybody adores Trey.” After another long pause, Father looks up and says, “I know you've never liked him. And I know in her heart your mother loves him but that some part of her wishes I'd never brought him into the house. I still remember that night I saw him at the DSHS office thinking he wasn't mine, and then seeing that little dimple when he smiled and knowing he was, and seeing how screwed up his life was going to be if I left him with that woman. I just fell in love with the little guy. God, Stone…I should take you out in the gravel and beat you half to death…putting me in this position.”

“Yes, sir.” Although I'd suspected it for years, it was the first time I'd had it confirmed that Trey was his biological son.

Renfrow speaks from his position at the dark window. “If I might make a suggestion?”

“What is it, Barry?”

“Why don't we go back out and wait for him to come back and then see how it plays?”

“You mean keep the blame on Trey?”

“If it works out that way, why not? You've already got a deal worked out with Harlan. It seems as if you're only playing with fire here if you change the players. He's come to terms with this in his own way. He agreed to let you throw Trey out and leave it at that. We both know how he'll feel about this new development. It won't be good.”

After a few moments staring into my eyes, Father arches his head up at Renfrow and says, “Will you go along with it?”

“It'll cost you, but not nearly as much as it'll cost if Harlan hears the truth.”

“What about Echo?”

“She's not going to change her story. She's cemented in.”

Turning back to me, Father gives me a withering look and mutters under his breath, “Don't ever put me in a position like this again. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you,” Father says, turning to Renfrow. “You breathe a word of this, and I will pay to have you killed.”

“I know that,” Renfrow says.

“God, I can't do this. I just can't. Jesus. He didn't do anything to deserve this.”

“You're going to have to give up somebody,” Renfrow says. “Harlan's out there waiting. Think of it as a business decision. In business you do what's expedient. Which choice does the least amount of damage to your holdings?”

“I'm in hell here,” Father says, dropping his head into his hands.