Daniel Palmer - Helpless

“Grateful for that.”

“Me too. The failed battery was the turning point for me.”

“And James Mann?” asked Tom. He kept his eyes closed, picturing Mitchell Boyd and this Aaron Donovan telling Rainy their stories.

“Simon was opportunistic,” Rainy said. “He knew about PrimaMed’s pending drug approval. His firm wrote the press releases. He already had his stock scheme going with Roland Boyd. ‘Two for the price of one,’ is how Donovan put it. He’d bring you down and make a mint with Boyd in the process.”

“Then who killed Marvin?”

“Frank Dee,” Rainy said. “Sadly, Lindsey Wells witnessed it all.”

“Why?”

“Because Marvin figured out the connection between Cortland and Boyd. That’s why Boyd had Marvin killed.”

Tom closed his eyes tightly and tried to swallow his anger. “Boyd got what he deserved,” he said. “Dee too.”

“And so did you,” Rainy said. “You’re now an innocent man.”

“In less than twenty-four hours I went from being a rapist, child pornographer, and drug smuggler to almost being in the clear,” Tom said with some amazement.

“What do you mean, almost?”

“I did ignite a fireball in front of a bunch of police cars,” Tom said.

“Well, the good news is I’ve had a chat with Sergeant Brendan Murphy. He’s sorry about how he treated you. I think you might find you’re in less hot water than you’d expect. My guess is you’ll get off with probation. No jail time.”

“But I’ll still need a lawyer.”

“I’d say that’d be a smart move.”

“Do me a favor,” Tom said.

“Anything.”

“Call Amanda Pressman. She’s the only attorney I’ll ever use.”

The Shilo High School parking lot was crowded with runners. There were a thousand registered participants, all of whom were stretching in preparation for the first annual Marvin Pressman 5k Memorial Run for Teen Safety. Organizing the event in such a compressed timeline would have been too massive an undertaking for Tom without Rainy’s guidance and expertise. In fact, it was Rainy who had inspired Tom to organize Marvin’s run. She participated in the Melanie Smyth Memorial Run, held each year in Newton, and had been more than happy to help Tom pull this race together.

Media coverage of the shocking events that had occurred in the sleepy hamlet of Shilo, New Hampshire not only helped to spread the word about Marvin’s run, but also proved instrumental in securing numerous event sponsors. Donations flooded in to the scholarship fund established in Marvin’s name.

Shilo’s main road, equipped with a lone traffic light, couldn’t accommodate the large crowds expected. School buses were brought in to shuttle runners from the parking lot at Silver Lake to the high school where the race would commence. Runners were asked to raise money through individual sponsorships, with a suggested minimum of one hundred dollars to enter the race. Most of the entrants doubled that.

One runner in particular raised more than anybody else—by a factor of ten. Accordingly, his picture was featured on a poster that hung on a telephone pole near the starting line. Out-of-towners who passed by that poster glanced at the top fundraiser’s photograph, not recognizing his name. But everyone from Shilo knew Sergeant Brendan Murphy. Murphy took some responsibility for what happened to Tom, though his aggressive fundraising effort was the most he could manage by way of an apology.

Seven months had passed since Jill had dragged Tom’s limp and bleeding body to the shoreline of the quarry. Although he was fully prepared to accept punishment for his crimes, Tom never anticipated how it would all play out.

He’d hired Marvin’s sister, Amanda, to be his attorney. Amanda was more than happy to take on his case. It was, she said, what Marvin would have wanted. The statute of limitations for Tom’s narcotics related crimes was long past. The firebomb he detonated, several counts of assault, grand theft auto for stealing Sullivan’s car, and resisting arrest were not.

The media portrayed Tom as a folk hero. They viewed him as a man committed to protecting his family at all costs. It didn’t hurt Tom’s profile that in the process he had helped to bring down a child pornography ring, along with a financial scheme that had ruined hundreds of lives. But Tom didn’t care how he was viewed by the media or by the masses. The threats against his daughter had been neutralized. That was most important to him. He was ready to pay the penalty for what he had done. However, the DA accepted Amanda’s deal without reservation. Tom would plead guilty to criminal mischief, a Class A Misdemeanor, and in exchange he would get probation instead of jail time.

The spring sun was warm and bright in the perfect late morning sky. Tom noticed Lindsey Wells stretching to get ready for her run. She caught Tom’s eye, gave him a slight wave and what he interpreted to be a sad smile. He knew she had a long road ahead of her, but there were signs of her continued improvement. She was seeing her friends now and started working out again in part to train for this race. According to Jill, there were some nights that Lindsey didn’t cry herself to sleep.

A wave of high profile arrests followed the shooting at the Spot in Willards Woods. Simon Cortland, along with several of his associates, were charged with numerous felony crimes pertaining to their stock scheme and vicious online reputation attacks. In the process, a dozen innocent people framed by Cortland were cleared of their crimes. A dozen more cases were under active review. Gill Sullivan was in prison, awaiting trial on racketeering charges. Roland Boyd’s financial empire crumbled upon his death.

Mitchell Boyd was in custody, charged with two counts of attempted murder, and numerous other charges pertaining to his sexting ring. All of Mitchell’s suppliers were arrested and they too were awaiting trial. Mitchell was being tried as an adult. He didn’t make bail, but from prison he did send Jill a letter. In it, he expressed real feelings for her. He didn’t view her in the same way as the other girls in his operation, and went on to say he had never sold her pictures. Not once. Not to anybody.

“Maybe he didn’t,” Jill had said to Tom after she read the letter. “But I guess I can never know for certain if that’s true.”

Tom waded through the crowd of appreciative racers on his way to the makeshift stage that had been erected at the edge of the parking lot abutting the soccer field. Soon, from that stage, Tom would signal the start of the race. Rainy and Jill were waiting for Tom at the front of the stage. Tom choked up seeing them standing close together, talking freely, sharing several laughs. Rainy and Jill had formed their own bond and Tom couldn’t have been happier.

“Dad!” Jill yelled, waving frantically as he neared. “This is amazing! Can you believe all the runners?”

“Amazing,” Tom agreed, shouting to be heard above the din of the crowd, then giving Jill a warm embrace.

Rainy leaned in and gave Tom an affectionate kiss hello.

Jill smiled, winked and gave Tom the “thumbs up” sign. She was both teasing him and encouraging him at the same time, having already suggested that perhaps he should go ring shopping.

“Too soon,” Tom had said, not admitting that he had already checked out a couple jewelry stores and was seriously contemplating making a purchase.

Tom knew that a relationship begun under such extreme circumstances had a low probability for success, but then again, there was nothing probable about how Tom and Rainy became a couple.

A light breeze filled the air with the scent of blooming flowers, and the freshness of a new day. Tom looked at Jill and smiled.