COLD CASE
The Confession
By J. B. Tilton (a.k.a. NoAzMale) with Teri Thibeault (a.k.a. Tessalynne)
Emails:
evilgidget_
Email:
Rating: K
* * *
Disclaimer: "Cold Case" and all related characters and events are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS Corporation, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.
* * *
(Authors' note: This story takes place between season 1 episodes "Look Again" and "Gleen".)
* * *
A man contacts Lilly and confesses to a 29 year old murder that was originally classified as an accidental death.
* * *
PROLOGUE
April 19, 1974
The student moved to his locker and began to remove books from it. The halls of the high school were currently filled with students as they filed from one classroom to the next. They had only a few short minutes before their next classes started. It would be the last class of the day and more than a few were less than enthusiastic wanting to get out of school as quickly as possible. As the student closed his locker, two other students were standing next to him.
Like the boy at the locker, both of these students were wearing leather jackets. They weren't uncommon around school but it was unusual to see students wearing them in class. Unusual except for the "tough guys", that is. Or at least the ones who thought they were tough.
"Hey, Bob," said one of the students, "ain't seen you around much lately. You finally back in school?"
"No, Craig," said Bob. "Just come to get my books to study. My teachers said I could still take the finals as long as I studied for them. Just getting my books, that's all."
"You, studying?" questioned the third boy. "You ain't gone and gotten all academic on us, have you?"
"You might say that, Harry," said Bob. "Look, we graduate in less than a month. We can't just skate through life like we did in high school. It may not do any good but I want to get the best grades on my finals that I can."
"Since when do you care about grades?" asked Craig. "If I remember right, you once said that school was for suckers. Your accident made you soft in the head?"
"No, not soft," said Bob. "Let's just say it made me reevaluate my priorities, that's all."
"Priorities?" questioned Craig. "You sound like one of these loser teachers."
"They aren't losers," said Bob. "And if you were smart you'd learn that. We aren't kids any more, Craig. In a few weeks we'll be in the adult world. You think they're going to let us just slide through like we have in school? We have to start taking responsibility some time. The sooner we learn that the better off we're going to be."
"I think you hurt your head," said Craig, snickering. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be parroting the same useless knowledge these nerds here do."
"Yeah, well, it's not useless," said Bob. "And I have some studying to do so if you'll excuse me."
"We got a big race tonight," said Harry. "We need our best driver. There's a lot riding on this race. You gotta be there."
"I'm through racing," said Bob. "There are no percentages in it."
"You look here," said Craig, putting his hand on Bob's shoulder to keep him from walking away, "Harry's right. We got a lot of cash riding on this race. You can't wimp out on us now. We'll clean up when we win. I all ready told the others you're driving."
"You shouldn't have done that, Craig," said Bob. "I'm not driving. It's too dangerous for one thing. And I'm not risking being picked up by the cops so close to graduation."
"You will be there," snarled Craig.
"No, Craig, I won't."
"Is there a problem here?"
The three students turned to see that most of the other students had all ready gone onto class. Standing just a few short feet from them was Mr. Discher, the school principal.
"No, Mr. Discher, no problem," said Craig, trying to act cool.
"Then I suggest you get to your next class," said Discher. "The bell has all ready rung and you're all ready late."
"Just remember what I said, Bob," said Craig as he and Harry began to move down the hallway. "Eight o'clock sharp. Be there or else. You bail on me and I'll make you real sorry."
Bob just watched as his two "friends" disappeared around corner of the next hall. He smiled at Mr. Discher and then turned and headed for the parking lot.
* * *
April 21, 1974
It had been raining all weekend. Just before dark it had stopped and was starting to clear up. The frame for the house that was going up had been completed on Friday. The construction site was deserted as the police car pulled up in the driveway. The officers would soon find the body of a young man lying face down a large puddle of water. His body would still be warm but there was no doubt that he was dead.
