Unconscionable, A Rich Coleman Novel Vol 3 Page 20

  Chapter 19

  Media Frenzy

  Rich and Erica took the first flight they could get on out of LAX after the taping of the Jay Leno show. They were angry, depressed, and scared. Their flight was uneventful until they deplaned and were mobbed by reporters and TV news crews just outside the luggage pickup area at DFW.

  “Mr. Coleman, do you think you’ll be indicted for Martha Collins’s murder?” a reporter asked.

  “No comment,” Rich replied, trying to muscle his way through the dense crowd of reporters.

  Erica hung on to Rich’s arm and followed him through the crowd that seemed to be pressing harder and harder.

  “Were you surprised when Detective Perkins showed up as a guest last night on Leno?” another reporter asked.

  “No comment,” Rich repeated, pushing the reporter aside.

  “What do you think about The Pact’s climb to number one on Amazon’s Best Seller list?”

  Rich stopped a moment and stared at the reporter. “Seriously?”

  That was good news, but it didn’t mean a lot since Amazon was just one bookseller. True enough, it was the most important bookseller, but being number one didn’t mean anything unless a book maintained that position for some time. Amanda had told him many an author had purchased hundreds, if not thousands, of their own books so they could boast that their book had once been number one on Amazon. He wondered if the position could be sustained.

  “Yes, within thirty minutes of your appearance it was number one,” the reporter replied.

  Rich looked at Erica, who didn’t seem impressed by the news, and then started up again. “Let us through, please. We have no comment.”

  When they finally cleared the mob of reporters they rushed to a cabstand and got in the first one that was available. Rich put his arm around Erica and squeezed her tightly.

  “I’m sorry, honey. You were right. Publishing this book was a big mistake.”

  “I had a feeling it would be,” Erica said. “You know how the media has to find some new scandal every week for the public to feed on. I was afraid it would end up being us.”

  Rich shook his head. “I just thought it had been so long ago that it wouldn’t be such a big story.”

  “It wouldn’t have been had my revisions not been leaked.”

  “Who do you think leaked it?”

  “It could have been only one person.”

  “Who?” Rich asked.

  “Amanda, obviously,” Erica said.

  “No. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt us. She’s like family.”

  “She probably thinks she’s doing us a favor by setting off this media storm. Now your book will be number one on the New York Times Best Seller list.”

  “No it won’t,” Rich protested.

  “Yes it will, and we’ll make hundreds of thousands of dollars, but the question is what will be the cost of that fame and fortune. Or, will we even survive what Amanda has unleashed upon us.”

  Rich shook his head. “Don’t jump to any conclusions. It’s possible Amanda had nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh, yes she did. She’s going to be a very successful literary agent because she’ll do whatever it takes to put her clients on top.”

  Thirty minutes later, when the cab rounded the corner near their house, they were shocked to see two police cars parked in front. When the cab stopped Rich got out and approached one of the policemen, who was standing in the driveway.

  “What’s going on here?” Rich demanded.

  “Are you Rich Coleman?” the officer asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We were instructed to stay here until you arrived. I’m afraid your door has been destroyed. Someone will be by in the morning to replace it.”

  “What are you talking about? How was it destroyed?”

  “Since you weren’t here to open it for us when we executed the search warrant, the door had to be forcibly opened.”

  “Search warrant? Who got a search warrant?”

  “The district attorney applied for it and got a judge to sign off on it, I guess,” the officer replied. “That’s the usual procedure.”

  “Did you have to break the door down? You couldn’t have simply picked the lock?”

  The officer shrugged.

  Rich shook his head angrily and stormed inside with Erica on his heels. He gasped at the mess the police had left. Erica pushed on past him.

  “Oh my God!” Erica exclaimed. “What have they done to our house?”

  “Somebody’s going to pay for this,” Rich promised, looking back at the officer watching them.

  Erica walked briskly through each room of the house, inspecting the damage done. Then she rushed upstairs, pulled down the attic ladder, and climbed up. The contents of all the boxes and drawers and chests had been spilled onto the floor. She rummaged through the piles then looked up at Rich who had just climbed up into the attic.

  “It’s not here! The envelope with the revisions is gone!”

  Rich swallowed hard. “If they pick us up for questioning don’t say a word to them. Even with your revisions they can’t prove anything. Only your testimony could convict me.”

  “What about Joe?”

  Rich shrugged. “Joe wouldn’t say anything. He’s my best friend.”

  “But if he lies to them they could charge him with being an accessory or even pin the murder on him. He had as much motive to shut up Aunt Martha as we did.”

  “Shit!” Rich said. “I can’t believe this.”

  “What if they offer him immunity if he testifies against you?” Erica asked desperately.

  “I don’t think he’d go for it.”

  “You better call him and tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

  “Okay. I will,” Rich said as he descended the attic stairs.

  Just as he was picking up the telephone he heard Erica screaming, “Don’t use the house phone!”

  He dropped the phone back on the receiver. “What?”

  “It’s probably bugged. Don’t use your cell phone, either. You’ll have to go over to Joe’s house and talk to him there. Not in his house, though. Go outside and take a walk.”

  Rich laughed. “I thought I was the attorney,” he said.

  Erica smiled. “You may be the attorney, but I’m the more cunning one in the family.”

  “I won’t argue with that,” Rich agreed.

  “Go find Joe. I’ll start getting this place cleaned up.”

  “I should get a piece of plywood and seal up the front door first.”

  “No. You can do that when you get back. The officer said they’d be here until the front door was replaced. I’ll be safe.”

  Rich nodded. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

  Rich drove across town to Joe Weston’s house. He didn’t call ahead because he wasn’t sure his cell phone line was secure. He couldn’t believe that he had to worry about his phones being bugged. What was next, a tail? He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a car a hundred yards behind him. Since he hadn’t been paying attention to his rearview mirror, he didn’t know how long the vehicle had been there. At the next corner he turned left, went two blocks, and turned left again. He was going around several blocks and if the car stayed within him he would know he was being followed. When he looked back, the car was still following him.

  “Fuck!” he said, pounding the steering wheel.

  He wondered if there was any way he could lose the tail. He wasn’t trained in that sort of thing, but he’d seen plenty of movies where it had been done. The coolest trick he had seen was when a car thief would pull into an alley or hide behind another vehicle while his tail would go right on by, the driver scratching his head. He looked for that kind of opportunity and saw it almost immediately.

  He was coming up on a McDonald’s, and there was a big eighteen-wheeler unloading adjacent to the drive-through window. The McDonald’s was on the corner, so he accelerated past the fast food restaurant and then took a hard right at the
next corner. Immediately, before his tail could see what was happening, he pulled into the alley, sped around the McDonald’s, and got in the drive-through line, which was hidden by the big truck. When the tail turned the corner the car went on down the street past the alley. The moment the tail was out of view Rich backed up and tore off in the opposite direction.

  Rich felt proud of himself for successfully losing his tail, but his delight quickly turned to anger and frustration as he neared Joe’s house. There were unmarked police cars parked out front. He knew they were police cars because they had government license plates, fancy antennae, and a portable set of lights on each dash. They no doubt had expected him to go see Joe immediately and were waiting to ask him why he’d decided to visit his old friend in the middle of the night.

  Rich drove on past, cursing himself for not anticipating any of this. In retrospect he should have realized the district attorney would be very interested in his book to see if it incriminated him or anybody else. Now he’d put himself and Erica in jeopardy. Sure, Erica couldn’t be prosecuted, but she’d be just as devastated if he were tried and convicted as a co-conspirator in Aunt Martha’s murder.

  Rich wondered about Joe. He’d been a wonderful friend over the years. Would he consider an immunity deal to rat his friend out? It wasn’t likely, but still a concern. Joe had a wife and children to consider, and they trumped an old friend. Rich wondered what he’d do in the same circumstance, but he couldn’t see himself testifying against Joe. It would be unthinkable. He hoped Joe felt the same way.

  When he got home Erica had made great progress on the house and, except for the front door, it almost looked normal. After complimenting her on her work, he went into the garage and found a piece of plywood to seal off the front door until morning. After measuring the doorway and cutting the plywood, he nailed it securely in place. At a little after two a.m., they went to bed.

  They were awakened at six a.m. by the sound of big trucks going down the street. Rich figured it was the trash pickup trucks coming by to empty garbage cans, but then he heard voices. He got up and looked outside.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  “What is it?” Erica asked sleepily.

  “Media trucks setting up. I think our life is about to change forever.”

  Erica got out of bed and looked outside. There were three media trucks from each of the three networks, a crowd of TV and news reporters, and cameramen everywhere. “Damn it. I won’t even be able to take a shower without worrying about somebody filming me through the window.”

  “Don’t worry. The bathroom windows are fogged.”

  “Yeah. Great. What about our bedroom?”

  Suddenly a head stuck up, and a cameraman flashed their picture.

  “What the fuck!” Rich yelled quickly, closing the blinds. “Damn it!”

  “Rich, what are we going to do?”

  Rich took Erica in his arms and held her tightly.

  “I don’t know, honey. Maybe we should go stay in a hotel for a while—until the dust settles.”

  “No. I will not be driven from my own home,” Erica declared.

  “All right. Just keep all the blinds closed. I’ll hire some security to keep the press out of our yard.”

  “Good. Go do it right now.”

  Rich nodded and went to the phone. After a few moments he turned and said, “It’s done. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Good. Come on. Let’s go eat some breakfast.”

  As they were eating breakfast Rich’s cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “We’re here from Sentinel Security.”

  “Oh. Right. Come around back. The gate’s unlocked.”

  A few moments later two men knocked on the back door. Rich opened it. They shook hands and introduced themselves as Dave Hood and Walter Shockley.

  “Come on in.”

  The two men walked in.

  “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Erica asked.

  They nodded.

  “Have a seat,” Rich said.

  The two men sat down and Erica gave them each a cup of coffee.

  “So, thanks for coming by,” Rich said. “I’m going to need somebody here 24/7 to keep the press out of our yard.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Shockley said. “I’ll handle that. I’ve had experience with media types.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I’m retired Secret Service.”

  “Oh, excellent. We’re probably going to have to have the house swept for bugs, too, and our phones are most likely tapped.”

  “That’s my specialty,” Hood said. “I’m a good hacker, too, if you need any of that done.”

  Rich laughed. “Yeah, that’s good to know. That kind of talent could come in handy.”

  After they’d finished their coffee, Hood and Shockley went off to do their work. As they were leaving Ryan and Matt showed up.

  “We came by last night but the police had the place cordoned off already,” Matt said. “We were going to clean out the attic but it was too late.”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t burn those goddamn revisions,” Erica moaned. “Now we’re in serious trouble.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ryan said. “You had no idea someone would get ahold of them.”

  “Yeah, I wonder how that happened?” Erica remarked, looking at Ryan.

  “Hey. Don’t look at me,” Ryan said defensively. “It was probably stolen during your break-in.”

  Erica thought about that for a moment. “But nobody even knew about the revisions.”

   “I knew about them,” Matt confessed. “You and Dad used to talk about the revisions. I never really understood what you were talking about until last night.”

  Erica shook her head. “But how did they know they were in the attic?”

  Ryan sighed. “I told people you had a manuscript in the attic and Amanda, I’m sure, did also. Nobody knew that it was a big secret.”

  “Did Amanda read the revisions?” Erica accused.

  “No! She would have told me. She was as shocked as the rest of us when we were watching Leno.”

  “You didn’t hear about the Inquisitor earlier. It came out at noon, I understand.”

  Ryan paled. “No. I don’t read the tabloids, but it is a little strange we didn’t hear about it. We had a TV-watching party, but we didn’t turn on the TV until Jay came on.”

  “Why?”

  “Amanda wanted to dance and party,” Ryan said slowly. He swallowed hard. “But I’m sure she had nothing to do with this.”

  Erica sighed. “Jesus Christ! You are so goddamn naive!”

  “Okay. Don’t go accusing anybody without proof,” Rich said. “Amanda may be completely innocent.”

  “Uh-huh,” Erica spat. “I bet.”

  Ryan’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and then put it to his ear. “Amanda?” he said as he got up and walked into the dining room.

  “How are your parents?” she asked.

  “Not so good,” he replied and then explained the situation.

  “They think I leaked the story to the Inquisitor, don’t they?” Amanda asked.

  “My mom does.”

  “It’s not true. I was as shocked as you were about it,” Amanda lied.

  “Well, that’s what I told her, but she’s a little paranoid right now, so I’d stay clear of her for a while.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. We don’t need any family squabbles right now.”

  “Okay . . . Hey, I got a call from Jill. They’ve completely sold out of The Pact and have ordered another hundred books.”

  “Great.”

  “And it’s number one on Amazon and BarnesandNoble.com as of ten o’clock a.m. Eastern Standard Time.”

  “That’s good news. When do they publish the New York Times Best Seller list?”

  “That will come out Sunday, but it’s a little early to be on that list. It might make the Dallas Morning News local best
seller list on Sunday depending on what stores they poll this week.”

  “Have you talked to the editor at Thorn?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes. Of course, she loves all this publicity. It’s all free advertising to her.”

  “I bet. Do you think she had anything to do with the leak?”

  Amanda hesitated. “I don’t know how. She did know the manuscript had been kept in the attic, but I can’t see a major publisher doing something like this.”

  “All right. I’ll be home in a little while to take a shower and get dressed to go to the office. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon with Cindy Sharp.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  Ryan hung up and went back into the kitchen to report the latest sales news to Rich and Erica. They didn’t seem all that impressed, so he let them know he was going home and then to the office. Just as he was leaving, a carpenter came to install a new door. Ryan helped the man carry the door to the front porch and then left. He was mobbed by reporters as he went to his car, but he ignored their questions. When he got to the office an hour later Matt was already there, and he didn’t look like he was in a good mood.

  “What’s wrong?” Ryan asked as he went by his office and noticed him staring out the window.

  Matt turned and took a deep breath. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What?” Ryan said.

  “RMS just filed suit against Cindy Sharp for the wrongful death of Lucius Jones!”