I felt angry then. How many times have I said this to you? This was a difficult time for me. I was angry at Jenny for wanting to give up. Angry at Sean for allowing their friendship to distract her. And angry at my son for putting me in this position, where I had to compromise my work with Jenny to save his sorry ass.
I held myself together. Jenny and I went back to that night in the woods. This time, we used the bleach and the music and I did not say the words. I did not play Bob Sullivan’s commercial. I wanted things to be the way they were. I wanted another moment of pure success to happen in this office. I wanted the magic of that moment to return.
It did not. Jenny was blocked, detached. I could not do this alone. When she left, I sat at my desk and wallowed in my misery.
It was then, right then at that moment of despair, that Detective Parsons called with the wind that would ignite my little fire.
Chapter Twenty-six
Parsons was upset. I could hear it in his voice. He had not believed Bob Sullivan could be a viable suspect. He had not wanted to. I couldn’t blame him. This case was never going to have a “smoking gun.” Any investigation into any suspect would require a leap of faith followed by professional exposure. It was one thing when the exposure involved a man like Cruz Demarco, or even the boys who were at the party. But Bob Sullivan was Fairview’s finest. And he wielded significant power throughout the middle part of the state. Parsons and his whole investigation would be under a microscope.
There was also the issue of my son and his name being on the list of boys to be interviewed. I had timed this meticulously.
“It has occurred to me that you should have my son on your list,” I said. I’d made the call the past Friday afternoon. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of this sooner, but he is on the swim team and he was at the party.”
Parsons, as expected, had not looked at his list for the following week. Really? He said. Let me see.… Oh yeah. We have him. He’s scheduled for next Thursday. We’re having to make appointments because everyone wants to come with a lawyer.
“I’m sure. My wife does as well, I’m afraid. I have no problem with any of this. You should absolutely cross every t and dot every i. I want nothing less for the Kramers.”
Parsons was quiet for a moment. He was thinking. I suppose they know your son … uh, Jason, was there? The Kramers, I mean?
“Well, I don’t really know. I try to keep my professional life separate from my personal affairs. I suppose I should tell them, or at least Tom. I’ll take care of that right away.”
That had been the end of it. My wife called the station and got the appointment moved again to the following week. I mentioned the interview in passing to Tom at one of our sessions. I waited until he was worked up about the police being incompetent for not finding the blue sweatshirt.
We were now past that. We were on to Bob Sullivan. I had managed to kick the can down the road. But the road was not endless.
Alan, we did some checking into Sullivan. Do you have anything else on your end?
“Well, actually, I do, but it’s really quite uncertain. I don’t want to jump the gun.”
Look … I need whatever you have. Fuck … this thing is spinning out of control.
“What’s happened? What did you find?”
Sometimes life just hands you a gift. You don’t know when it’s going to happen. You can’t count on it. But when it happens, you come very close to believing there’s a god.
Uh … man. I don’t even want to say it. I have your word it will remain between us until I have enough to question him?
“Of course.”
Okay. Spring 1982. Fort Lauderdale. There’s a file that made it to Skidmore, where Sullivan went to college. Nothing came of it. No charges. Nothing like that. But it involves a sexual incident. The victim was a sixteen-year-old. Local girl out with her friends, looking to party with college kids on their spring break. Sounds like it might have been a case of morning-after regret. There’s a photo … tight little tube top, miniskirt, black eyeliner … you get the picture, right?
“Yes.”
Sullivan’s parents got him a lawyer. Charges were dropped on condition his college was informed. It’s nothing. And between you and me, if Tom Kramer wasn’t such a loose cannon, this file would be in the shredder. This is the kind of thing that ruins a man’s life. And it’s apples and oranges.
Oh, what a gift, this wind!
“Well … I can see your dilemma. How can I help you?”
Parsons sighed. I could hear his exasperation with me. I need to know why you set me out on this path. I need to know what Jenny Kramer remembers. I can’t go at this guy with a thirty-three-year-old allegation that never even led to charges. It’ll seem like a persecution.
“But isn’t it your job to follow every lead, even if it takes you to a man like Bob Sullivan? Maybe there’s more to find. He obviously has some appetites. Possibly control issues. He’s an aggressive man. You can tell that from his success, his ambitions.”