“That I could end up like Ray.” Stanley was shaking. He put one hand over the other against his belly, pushing hard enough to make the knuckles white. “I sound crazy, don’t I?”
“A little.” Wallis watched Stanley slowly creeping toward a breakdown, struggling to hold it off for as long as possible. Wallis had seen this before. Mothers or fathers on the stand who knew the person they had pledged their life to, created a household, children, an entire life with, had turned out to be a monster. The betrayal was laid bare, but too late, the children were harmed. Desperation would come over their faces as they realized strangers would decide the fate of their children. They were helpless and were realizing that what came next depended on who told the most convincing story to the judge, a stranger, and not whether it was the truth or a lie.
Clients were forever asking Wallis for reassurance, insisting the judge had to at least follow the rules.
“Not really,” Wallis would reply casually. Better they get used to being treated this way. All that awaited them was indifference. Wallis had seen too many cases with too many people dripping with venom and emotion. Often the clerks looked sleepy. “He can do what he wants to do. In family court the laws end up being guidelines,” she would say.
A controlled look of horror was a common response, thought Wallis, and appropriate. Better they understand and let go of any ideas of fair play. He who played the game well always won.
Maybe it was the same here, thought Wallis.
“What are you really afraid of Stanley?”
“Not knowing anything. Who they are, what they’re really doing and when they might decide I’m too much trouble.” He grasped his hands tightly to his chest, letting the book slide out of his lap to the ground.
She knew if she pushed him there was a good chance he was going over. She took a deep breath and made herself relax. Courtroom mode.
“Are all of these names on here recruits? I only know some of them.”
“I don’t know,” said Stanley, shaking his head. “Ray mentioned something about all of those other names. He said they were an answer of some sort to an old problem, hiding in plain sight, but he didn’t get to tell me more before they...” His voice trailed off as his chin sunk into his chest.
“Stanley, look at me. What kind of messages are these people leaving?”
“They broke Alice’s windshield. Left the crowbar behind. I think someone’s been in my house, gone through all of my things.” His voice trailed off.
“Stanley? Stanley, look up. Look at me. You seem to want help, but you’re making it harder for me. Who’s Alice? Why did someone break her windshield? How do you know it wasn’t just stupid kids? How do you know all of this is connected to anything?” Wallis was talking too fast, trying to argue a different outcome.
“Alice works in the Utility Department too, or at least she did.”
Wallis remembered Lilly’s description of Ray’s meeting with the woman.
“She left me some crazy message last night,” said Stanley, “saying she was leaving town and starting over and not to call her. Man, she practically screamed that part. She worked in the accounting department and was helping Ray with the paper trail. You know, follow the money.”
“They found a trail? Connect some of these dots, Stanley.”
“I’m doing the best I can here. Look, my main purpose is to honor what Ray told me to do. After I’ve done that, I’m out of it. I’ve had enough,” he said, waving his arms like an umpire signaling the runner was out. He was quietly crying. “I have things to live for and bottom line, I don’t give a damn what’s going on around me. Not anymore. Perfectly happy to go back to being ignorant.”
“So, why not do that now?”
Stanley looked up at Wallis. “Because Ray mattered that much to me,” he whispered. “Because he deserved better than this and because as much as I’d like to ditch all of this and go back to what’s left of my life, I get the uneasy feeling the sons of bitches aren’t going to let me.”
Stanley pulled out a file that had been hidden under the chair and held it out to Wallis.
“How did you get this in the first place?” she asked.
“It was off of a thumb drive Kristen gave to Ray. She stole it from her Watcher. At first we thought it was just music downloaded off the net. That’s what it looked like. But Ray was good with computers, it was his thing. He knew how to find the files, said people did it all the time. Hid files in with the audio tracks.”
“Do you have the drive?”
Stanley pulled out the little race car thumb drive with the small ‘3’ on the side. He looked relieved to let go of the burden.
She looked at Stanley. “Were these lists the only files you found?”