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Zachary Blake was in his office late, burning the midnight oil. The Tracey v. Bartholomew, et al. civil trial was two weeks away. He hadn’t heard from Love. If Micah didn’t find prior victims or witnesses to the prior bad acts of this lowlife disguised as a man of God, Zack would be unable to prove the church was responsible for his conduct. If that happened, the church would have no financial obligation to pay the jury verdict. A huge verdict against Bartholomew was worthless due to his vow of poverty. The phone rang, startling him.
“Zachary Blake.”
“Hi, Zack, Micah here.”
“Micah!” Zack exclaimed. “Where have you been? What’s going on? I’ve been calling you all weekend. Do you ever check your messages? Talk to me, man. Give me some good news!”
“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Micah explained. “Which do you want first?”
“Give me all of it! I don’t care about the order. What’s going on? I’ve got a trial in two weeks!” Zack urged.
“Two weeks, huh? That’s a new development.”
“Yeah, and here’s another one. Bartholomew copped a plea.”
“You’re shitting me. What’d he cop to?”
“Criminal sexual conduct, fourth degree.”
“Only fourth? That sucks!” Micah groaned.
“That’s not the worst of it. He gets to enter the plea off the record, at night, in a judge’s chambers—no jail time, three years probation. Jennifer is through the roof. She’s allowed to speak at the hearing under the Victims’ Rights Statute, but it’s a formality. According to my sources at the courthouse, it’s a done deal.” Zack groused.
“The identical thing happened in Berea,” Micah grumbled. “He got the same Goddamned deal. The in-charge detective thinks the judge and the prosecutor are in bed with the church.”
“It would seem the same scenario exists in Oakland County.”
“There’s more,” Micah continued. “Bartholomew molested the children of two families here. He was caught. The result was the plea I told you about. But, get this! Nobody in town knows about the incident. The kids’ grandparents don’t even know. All they know is their children and grandchildren have disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Zack sputtered.
“Yep. Shortly after Bartholomew pleads guilty and gets transferred to Michigan, the two families take off in the middle of the night, ‘For Sale’ signs in front of both houses. The cops believe they’ve been bought off and moved by the church. They have new identities. Their parents don’t know where they are. They quit good jobs. It’s all very convenient for the church. Only two people in town seemed to know about the incident and why the priest and the two families left town.”
“Good. Then we have witnesses. Who are they?” Zack wondered.
“I hate to burst your bubble, Zack, but we have a problem.”
“What’s that?” Zack fretted.
“One’s dead—janitor at the church where Gerry did his dirty work before Michigan. Died yesterday. We think he was killed, but autopsy results are inconclusive. They’ve ruled out homicide, and the official cause of death is ‘cardiac arrest.’”
“The church strikes again? People are being murdered?” Zack seethed.
“I don’t know. It sure looks that way.”
“Who’s the other witness?”
“The investigating cop, Phillip Jack.”
“So, he can testify, right?” Zack presumed.
“Wrong. He claims his captain, the prosecutor, and the judge have ordered any violation of the plea agreement of silence will result in termination and loss of pension. He’s got over thirty years on the force. He’s not talking,” Micah retorted.
“You mentioned there was good news? Hopefully, you haven’t given it to me yet.”
Micah was upbeat. “No, I haven’t. I have located one of the families, the name is O’Connell, although they’ve changed it.”
Yes! Zack was pleased to finally hear positive news. “That’s great news! Have you talked to them? What did they say? Will they testify?”
“Hold on, Counselor; hold on. I indicated that I’ve located them, not that I’ve talked to them.”
“You’ve set up a meeting, right? When is it? Should I be there, too? Of course, I should. I’ll get in the car and meet you out there. Where am I going?” Zack rambled—processing what seemed like a million thoughts at once.
“Hold your horses, Counselor,” Micah reasoned. “The family lives in Coral Springs, Florida. They’ve been given a new life, a new identity, new careers, and, probably, a shitload of money. I’m flying down there first thing in the morning. They’re unaware anyone, other than the church, knows their whereabouts. They don’t know me. They certainly don’t know I’m coming. I doubt it will be easy to get them to talk, but that’s not my main concern at the moment.”
“What do you mean? What else trumps getting them to talk? Without someone to testify to prior incidents and church knowledge, I’m going to be up shit’s creek without a paddle,” Zack cried.
“How about their safety, Zack? The janitor’s death was no accident. These two families are the only ones who can link Gerry and the church to Berea. They’re in danger. I can feel it. If I’m right, I’ve got to get to Florida, quickly.”
“Of course, you’re right. No flights tonight, huh?”
“No such luck. Delta has a 6:00 a.m. nonstop out of Metro to Ft. Lauderdale.”
“How far is Ft. Lauderdale from Coral Springs?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes. With no delays, car rental, and everything, I should be at their front door by 10:00 a.m.”
“Okay then, you’ll call me tomorrow, the minute you talk to them?”
“As soon as I can, Zack. Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in shit down here. I can’t believe this thing,” Micah wailed.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s fucking incredible,” Zack agreed.
“How’s the lady holding up?” Micah inquired.
“Marvelous, as always. Really pissed off about the plea bargain and lack of jail time. She’ll be okay when we get justice in the civil case. Besides, I’m getting a germ of an idea on how to handle the criminal situation, as we speak.”
“Care to elaborate?” Micah queried.
Zachary shared his idea.
“I like it!” Micah exclaimed. “It could work! In fact, I don’t see any reason why it wouldn’t. I’ll talk to the man when I return from Florida.”
“Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“Kick ass down there,” Zack encouraged.
“I’ll do my best, Counselor.”
“I have faith in you, man. Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” Zack cooed.
“Yeah, I know you do, but fuck that shit. Win the case and show me the money,” Micah whooped.
“I’ll do my best, Micah. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will, Zack.”
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