Deadline(127)
They all thought about that for a minute, and Jennifer Gedney made a couple of choking sounds, almost like sobs, but her eyes were dry.
“Let’s skip that for the moment,” Owens said. “Even if we agreed to throw Henry and Del overboard, they’re gonna deny knowing anything about Randy getting killed, or Jennifer Houser—”
“Why’d you kill Jennifer?” Jennifer Gedney demanded. “She was in it with the rest of us, she wasn’t going to tell—”
“I didn’t,” Laughton interrupted. “I don’t know what happened to her, but to tell you the truth, she was always a little too smart for her own good. There’s no sign that she’s dead, except a little smear of blood on her kitchen floor. I think she took off. The way she was acting the other night . . .”
Parsons said, “You’re right. She was a little too . . . pleased . . . going out the door. I think she’s got something tricky set up.”
They sat without speaking for a few more seconds, still digesting it all. Then Barns asked, “If we decide to throw Henry and Del overboard, as we’re calling it, how would we do that?”
“We don’t do it right now, this minute,” Laughton said. “I keep monitoring the investigation. I’ve got a good source inside the sheriff’s office, he’ll keep me up on things. Freedom of the press, and so on. Also, he wants to run for sheriff someday . . .”
“Josh Becker,” Jennifer Gedney guessed.
“Whatever,” Laughton said. “If it looks like it’s all going to come down on us, I’ll go directly to Flowers and tell him that Clancy Conley suspected Henry and Del and Randy of conspiring to do this. I’ll tell Flowers I didn’t believe it, because Clancy was a pill head, and all that. How I told him it was nonsense—making myself look naive. Then I say that I’ve gone to all you board members, and all of you are horrified at the prospect that this may have happened, and that we’d all be willing to testify against Henry and Del if it came to that. Back up any evidence he finds—that Flowers finds—and help reconstruct budgets and amounts, and so on.”
“And we’d get immunity from prosecution?” Jen Gedney asked.
“Asking for that would be touchy,” Laughton said. “If we’re innocent, why would we need it? I could come up with some reasons, but the best reason would be that our individual attorneys insist on it before we testify. Not us. Our attorneys. We’d say we feel that we have to go with their advice, which we’re paying them for.”
“I wonder if we could get the board attorneys to cover that, charge it off to the schools,” Owens wondered.
“Possibly,” said the chairwoman. “If we were innocent, it’d be a legitimate expense.”
“This idea sounds pretty sketchy, the whole story,” Gedney said.
“It is sketchy. And it’s getting sketchier by the minute,” Laughton said. “If we wait too long, it won’t even be an option. You have to remember, though, that if we get charged, the state has to prove us guilty beyond any reasonable doubt. We don’t have to create a great story—just a serious doubt.”
—
THEY ARGUED ABOUT IT for a half hour, all the time feeling the prison walls closing down on them. Finally Barns asked, “If it’s our only way out, it’s worth a try. Should we tell Henry what we’re going to do? You know, about supporting the families?”
“Not yet,” Laughton said. “Things could change. Let’s see what Flowers does next. If anyone hears anything that makes you think we’ve got to move, we’ll talk by phone, instead of trying to meet. Everybody keep your ears open. If Flowers comes to visit anyone—Jen Gedney, I’m thinking of you, since he’s already talked to you—let us know.”