Twenty-Five
"What do you think the odds are that those kids are actually going to go right to work and not spend half their time with their tongues down each other's throats?" Cliff asked Keith as soon as the four younger people had gone.
Still sitting at the kitchen-table, Keith shivered in disgust and replied, "I don't even want to know. As far as I'm concerned, my sweet daughter is still innocent and chaste and will be till the day she dies."
"Of course, of course," Cliff agreed easily, moving to pour himself a shot of whiskey and lean against the counter, "Whatever you have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night, my friend."
"So," Keith began, moving back to a safer topic, "have you been able to get the autopsy report or the file from the sheriff's department yet?"
"Negative," Cliff replied, "Although I'm supposed to go by there in an hour or two and try again. I figure if I pester them enough, they may eventually get tired of me and actually do their job."
"Don't hold your breath," Keith remarked cynically.
"Wasn't planning on it," Cliff returned just as irreverently.
"How about that article in 'PSST!'? Any connections with the journalist? And I use that term loosely, by the way," Keith added sarcastically.
"Hmmm, there I have an in," Cliff admitted, explaining hastily, "My clientele. The sleaziest of the dirtbags. As always, I make no apologies."
"Not asking for any. In this case, your tawdry connections are wildly beneficial," Keith said with a smirk.
"Glad to be of service," Cliff returned with a smarmy grin.
"Should we pay this reporter a visit before we head down to the station?" Keith asked with a light of anticipation in his dark eyes.
"I think we shall," Cliff replied as he downed the rest of his whiskey and tossed Keith the keys to his late 90's model Porsche. "Here. You drive. I've had a drink and I refuse to ride in that tin can you call a classic."
"It's a Crown Vic!" Keith defended without attempting to hand Cliff's keys back, "It's a classic cop car. You gotta give me that."
"I'll give you that if you agree to drive my classic convertible instead," Cliff offered in compromise.
"I'll take it," Keith agreed, standing to head out the door, knowing that Cliff would follow.
Twenty minutes later, they were outside a storefront coffee shop where Raj Hopkins had agreed to meet them regarding the story in 'PSST!' Cliff and Keith went in together and Cliff motioned toward the back where he saw his former client enthralled with what was likely to be his own work. The attorney and the PI weaved around the other customers until they came to the table where Mr. Hopkins sat. Hopkins looked up at Cliff with no emotion whatsoever but asked, "What can I do ya for? Stories are brewin'. I ain't got all day."
"What can you tell us about your sources for the Bonnie De Ville story?" Cliff asked abruptly, taking a seat across from the reporter while Keith took a seat next to him.
"I can tell you they're legit," Hopkins answered vaguely, unconcerned about the line of questioning.
"Did you go to them or did they come to you?" Keith asked, hoping they weren't about to get the runaround.
"A little o' both, if ya know what I mean," Hopkins grinned slyly, his tone gruff.
"So you have proof that De Ville cheated on Echolls?" Cliff asked pointedly.
"He don't know it, but I have a witness," Hopkins said with satisfaction.
Keith pulled down the newspaper that Hopkins had continued to hold up in front of him during their entire exchange and asked, "What witness might that be?"
"A journalist never reveals his sources," Hopkins sneered, snatching the paper back from Keith.
"Raj, Raj, Raj...you really don't want to make my friend here mad," Cliff warned cajolingly, "You see, his kid is in the middle of all this. His only daughter. If you've got something that can help her help Echolls, Mr. Mars will make sure he finds it out. Do you know what lengths a father will go to for his only child, Raj?"
Finally, Hopkins seemed to be getting nervous. He fidgeted in his seat and said, "Fine, you wanna know? I'll tell ya what I know. But you didn't hear it from me. The Casablancas kid who's been so chummy with the Echolls kid since who knows when? He had himself holed up with De Ville for a weekend not too long ago. Said he don't think nothin' happened but he was too drunk to tell one way or the other."
"That's your source?!" Keith asked incredulously, "And you call yourself a journalist?" He shook his head, snatched the paper back from Hopkins and then threw it in his face, "Despicable! Those are people's lives you're messing with. Do you realize that or even care?"
Hopkins rolled his eyes, giving Keith his answer. It took a good bit of self-control for Keith not to react accordingly.
"All I know," Hopkins said calmly, "Is that Casablancas didn't deny and neither did De Ville herself."
"Wait," Keith looked at Cliff before asking sharply, "What do you mean De Ville didn't deny it herself? You didn't mention you'd talked to her directly."
"Well now, you didn't exactly give me the chance to tell you about it, did you?" Hopkins asked smugly. "A good journalist always confirms his story."
"Did Echolls know?" Cliff asked now.
"Why do you think the sheriff is so intent on charging him?" Hopkins smirked.
Both of the other men sat silent. They'd wondered many times what evidence the sheriff had on Logan but something like this had really only crossed their minds in passing. Surely if Carrie had been cheating on him and he knew about it, Logan would have told them. Wouldn't he?
Hopkins' words along with Logan's long history of withholding vital pieces of truth suddenly made them doubt. Giving each other a shared look of concern, Cliff asked Raj if there was anything else they needed to know. When he said he'd given them enough, they stood and moved quickly back to the car.
"What do you think?" Cliff asked Keith as they got in and began to drive again, this time toward the Sheriff's Department.
"I think there's more to this than we know," Keith replied with consternation.
"I agree," Cliff said with a nod, watching Keith's body language and facial responses closely.
Keith struggled with his other thoughts until he finally said, "I also think there must be someone out there that would benefit from smearing Logan and even Dick. As much as it pains me to say, I've seen huge changes in those boys over the past several years and I'd like to think they wouldn't still be this stupid at this point in their lives."
Cliff snorted in agreement as they now pulled into the attorney assigned parking at the sheriff's department. "Coming in or are you going to wait here?" Cliff asked before opening his car door.
"Going," Keith answered, "You know I can't pass up a good Lamb roast."
Upon entering the station, Inga looked up in delight when she saw Keith. She gushed over them and asked how Keith and Veronica were both doing. Keith responded politely before asking if Lamb were in. Inga hesitated, looking back over one shoulder and then the other.
"Please, Inga?" Keith pleaded in a charming fashion, "You know I think the world of you. And your family, too."
He had helped her out with a family issue back in the day when he was sheriff. Reminding her now, he hoped, would serve to get him an 'in' to the sanctum of this newest sheriff.
Inga finally broke down and showed Keith and Cliff through. Both men sat and waited in Lamb's office for about ten minutes before the man himself arrived.
He saw them in his office and immediately called out to Inga in a hostile tone of voice, "Inga! Don't ever leave visitors in my office without my permission. We've been over this. Do not let it happen again!" Then he stepped inside and slammed the door, asking gruffly, "How can I help you gentleman?"
"Well, Sheriff," Cliff began smoothly, standing when the younger man entered the office, "As you know, I'm representing Mr. Echolls. I requested the autopsy report and the evidence list that was used to hold and charge my client and I have yet to receive these things."
"You'll receive them once they're available," Lamb replied smartly.
"Are you sure they aren't available now? We'll gladly wait while you call and find out," Cliff replied with an easy smile.
"You'll have them when you need them, Mr. McCormack," Lamb answered through grated teeth.
"Alright, alright," Cliff gave in and stood but said, "I'll just be back tomorrow, then. And the next day. And the next."
Keith sat smugly watching the performance, waiting to see who would win.
It didn't take long for Lamb to decide he'd had enough. He picked up the phone with a vengeance and called the county coroner. He also called the record room and gave an order to put a rush on the De Ville file. Finally, he looked at Cliff and Keith with a snarl and said harshly, "There. The autopsy will be on your desk in 24-48 hours. Same for the file. That's the best I can do. Now get out of here and let me do my job."
"You've been more than accommodating, Sheriff," Cliff said soothingly as he rose and backed toward the door. "If ever you need something, let us know and we'll see what we can do."
Keith rose, too. Lamb didn't even acknowledge that he'd been there. As he exited the office with a slight spring to his step, he gave Inga a professional nod and said in admiration to Cliff, "Sometimes having friends in low places pays off."